A Most Inconvenient Inheritance

Rain battered the windshield hard enough that Zoro had to lean forward over the steering wheel to make out the road ahead. His truck's wipers were going as fast as they could, barely clearing the glass before another sheet of water obscured his view. Wind shoved against the side of the truck, and a particularly loud crack of thunder made him glance toward the trees crowding the road. He'd turned off the main road nearly fifteen minutes ago, following a narrow paved lane through dense woodland, and according to his GPS, he still had another mile to go. 

The road crossed a creek on a low stone bridge. Water rushed beneath it, brown with mud and debris, already spilling over the banks and lapping at the edges of the pavement. A branch caught against one of the stone supports, then broke free and disappeared downstream. Zoro slowed, watching the current before easing his truck across. The bridge was still clear of water, but another few hours of rain could change that. 

The trees thinned as the road climbed, and the estate finally came into view. Zoro let out a low whistle.

The mansion was enormous. Three stories of dark stone rose beneath steep slate roofs, with tall chimneys, pointed gables, and rows of narrow windows. Two wings extended from the central building, enclosing a broad gravel courtyard with a circular fountain in the middle. Ivy covered portions of the facade, and warm light shone through several ground-floor windows. Beyond the house, what little Zoro could see through the rain suggested formal gardens, terraces, and several outbuildings.

As a foster kid, he'd have thought a place like this was a dream come true. He'd spent enough of his childhood sharing bedrooms and living out of bags that the idea of having an entire mansion to himself would've been incredible.

At forty-one, his first thoughts concerned the roof, the heating bills, and how much it must cost to maintain all those windows. He couldn't begin to imagine what the old man had spent keeping the place running.

Zoro lived frugally, mostly because he had to. His dojo brought in enough to cover the mortgage, utilities, insurance, and groceries, with a little left over when business was good. The studio apartment above it contained a bed, a couch, and a weight machine. He had a bathroom, a kitchenette with the usual fixtures, and a rice cooker that saw considerably more use than the stove.

His truck was fourteen years old and meticulously maintained. He'd paid it off years ago, and the prospect of a new car payment and higher insurance premiums was enough to make him determined to keep it running for another decade. 

He glanced at the mansion again. Silvers Rayleigh had died three weeks earlier. Zoro had learned about it when a formal letter arrived at the dojo, informing him that he'd been named in the man's will and requesting his presence at the reading. A phone call to the attorney confirmed that it was genuine, although Dracule Mihawk had declined to discuss the details over the telephone.

Zoro hadn't known Rayleigh was wealthy. Hell, he hadn't even known the man's last name until he received the letter.

They'd met during a blizzard the previous winter. Zoro had been driving home when he spotted a car off the road, its rear tires buried in a snowbank. An elderly man was sitting behind the wheel, bundled in a coat and trying to conserve what little warmth remained inside. He'd called for a tow hours earlier, but the roads had deteriorated so badly that nobody was coming.

It had been well below freezing. The car's engine wouldn't start, and the old man had already been sitting there long enough that his hands were trembling.

Zoro had gotten him into his truck and taken him home.

The roads remained impassable the next day, so Rayleigh stayed two nights in Zoro's apartment, sleeping in Zoro's bed while Zoro took the couch. They'd eaten rice, eggs, and whatever else Zoro had in the refrigerator, talked about martial arts, and watched a terrible action movie that Rayleigh had found hilarious.

Once the weather cleared, Zoro helped arrange to have the car recovered and repaired. Rayleigh thanked him, offered to pay him for the trouble, and eventually went on his way. That had been the end of it, as far as Zoro knew.

Now he was driving up to a mansion to hear the man's last wishes.

He pulled beneath the covered portico at the main entrance, where several other vehicles had already been parked along the courtyard. There were two expensive sedans, a black luxury SUV, and a sleek sports car that probably cost more than Zoro earned in five years. His truck, with its faded green paint and dented rear bumper, was an eyesore among them.

Zoro parked at the far end, killed the engine, and reached behind his seat for his duffel bag. He'd packed enough clothes for the weekend, although he still expected to be back at the dojo Monday. One of his senior instructors had agreed to cover Saturday's classes, and he'd already canceled Sunday's private sessions. Four days away from work was about all he could manage without eating into his bottom line.

He climbed out into the rain, pulled his jacket over his head, and hurried toward the entrance. Water splashed over his boots as he dodged the deeper puddles, and a gust of wind sent rain directly into his face just before he reached the shelter of the portico. "Shit."

By the time he got beneath the roof, his jacket was soaked across the shoulders and his hair was dripping. Rainwater poured from the portico's gutters, splashing onto the stone steps.

The front doors were enormous, made of dark wood with iron fittings and heavy brass handles. Zoro located the bell and pressed it. A moment later, one of the doors opened. An older woman in a dark dress regarded him with professional politeness. "Mr. Roronoa?"

"Yeah. Zoro."

"Welcome to Kuraigana Manor. I'm Mrs. Buckingham, the housekeeper. Please, come inside."

Zoro stepped across the threshold, wiping his boots on the mat while she closed the door behind him.

The entrance hall was nearly as impressive as the exterior. Black-and-white marble covered the floor, with a wide staircase rising along the far wall to a gallery above. Dark wood paneling covered the lower walls, and portraits hung beneath brass picture lights. An enormous chandelier illuminated the hall, although several lamps had also been lit against the gloomy afternoon.

A pair of upholstered benches stood near the entrance beside an antique umbrella stand. To his right, a tall mirror hung above a narrow console table. Zoro caught sight of himself in it.

His short green hair was plastered against his forehead, and rain had darkened his jacket almost black. He pushed the damp strands away from his face, exposing the long scar that ran over his closed left eye. The same accident in his late teens had left another scar across his chest, part of it visible where he'd left the top two buttons of his shirt undone. Three small gold earrings hung from his left ear.

At least he looked reasonably presentable beneath the jacket. He'd worn dark trousers and a button-down shirt for the occasion, although the shirt pulled a little across his shoulders. Years of martial arts and weightlifting had given him a solid build, even if running a business and spending more time training other people had left him softer around the middle than he'd been in his twenties. He'd never been particularly concerned about it.

"May I take your jacket, sir?" Mrs. Buckingham asked.

"Thanks." He shrugged it off and handed it over, leaving himself in his dark gray shirt. She hung the wet jacket on a nearby stand and took his duffel bag.

"I'll have your belongings taken up to your room, Mr. Roronoa. Mr. Mihawk is expecting you. The other guests are gathering in his office."

She led him across the hall and down a corridor lined with more portraits. The place smelled faintly of furniture polish and old wood. Thick carpeting muffled their footsteps, and nearby, a grandfather clock began striking three.

"How many people are here?" Zoro asked.

"Six of the beneficiaries have arrived, sir. We're still expecting one more."

Zoro did the math. "Seven altogether?"

"Eight, including yourself. There is also a guest attending at Mr. Mihawk's invitation."

Great. A whole roomful of strangers.

Mrs. Buckingham stopped before a paneled door and knocked.

"Enter," came a deep voice.

She opened it and stepped aside. "Mr. Roronoa Zoro."

The room beyond was a study, judging by the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and large desk positioned near the windows. A fire burned in the marble fireplace, and several leather chairs had been arranged around a low table holding glasses, bottles of water, and a silver tray of refreshments. Rain struck the windows in heavy bursts, occasionally accompanied by the low rumble of thunder. 

A tall man with slicked-back black hair stood near the fireplace, a white pigeon perched calmly on his shoulder. Another man sat in an armchair with a cigar between his fingers, his dark hair brushed back and a prominent scar running across his face. A third, with an enormous mane of purple-black hair, was examining a small bronze statuette on one of the shelves.

The man seated behind the desk rose when Zoro entered. Dracule Mihawk was tall and lean, dressed in a dark suit with a crimson shirt beneath his waistcoat. His narrow golden eyes regarded Zoro with an intensity that made him straighten instinctively. "Mr. Roronoa. I'm pleased you could join us."

"Zoro's fine."

"Very well. Mihawk will suffice." He came around the desk and offered his hand. "I apologize for the weather."

Zoro shook it. "Been worse."

Mihawk turned toward the room. "Allow me to introduce the other beneficiaries."

The man by the fireplace was Rob Lucci, a nephew of Rayleigh's who apparently worked in corporate management. He acknowledged Zoro with a brief nod. The white pigeon on his shoulder tilted its head and stared at Zoro.

"That's Hattori," Lucci said when he noticed Zoro looking.

"Your bird?"

"Yes."

"Huh." Zoro had never seen anyone bring a pigeon to a legal appointment, but the bird seemed perfectly content.

The man with the cigar introduced himself as Crocodile. He was broad-shouldered, immaculately dressed, and wore several expensive rings. His handshake was firm, his expression assessing.

"Roronoa," he said. "I've heard your name mentioned."

"Yeah?"

"An unexpected addition to the proceedings."

Zoro wasn't sure what to say to that, so he nodded.

Gecko Moria, the man examining the statuette, offered a broad grin that revealed an unusual set of teeth. He seemed more interested in the furniture than Zoro, glancing repeatedly toward the shelves while Mihawk spoke.

Two more men occupied the chairs near the windows. One was thin and pale, with long purple hair and an elaborate cravat. He introduced himself as Caesar, a pharmaceutical researcher, and immediately demanded to know how Zoro had known Rayleigh.

"Met him last winter," Zoro answered.

"Last winter?" Caesar repeated. "And that's sufficient to warrant an invitation to the reading of his will?"

"Apparently."

Caesar looked offended by the answer.

Beside him sat a man with bright blue hair, a large red nose, and an expensive-looking jacket that fit poorly around his middle. Buggy introduced himself with an exaggerated flourish, then immediately began complaining that Mihawk had refused to disclose the contents of the will beforehand. Zoro was beginning to understand why.

His attention shifted toward the last occupant. The blond man standing beside the bookshelves had been watching the introductions with mild amusement. He was tall and fit, dressed in dark trousers and a blue shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearms. His hair fell past his shoulders in loose golden waves, with a heavy section sweeping across the left side of his face. A short beard and mustache framed an attractive mouth, and the visible eyebrow curled in an unusual spiral above his right eye. He looked around Zoro's age.

And he was gorgeous.

Zoro's gaze lingered longer than he'd intended.

The man's mouth curved into a smile.

"And this is Vinsmoke Sanji," Mihawk said. "He's attending as a guest. His family had business dealings with Rayleigh some years ago."

Sanji approached and offered his hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Zoro."

His voice was warm, with a slightly rough edge. Zoro took his hand and found his grip firm. "Likewise."

Sanji looked him over, taking in the damp shirt and rain still clinging to his hair. "Looks miserable out there."

"Pretty much."

"You drove all the way here in the green pickup parked outside."

"Yeah."

Sanji's smile widened. "I was wondering who it belonged to. It's in better condition than most of the cars half its age."

Zoro regarded him with renewed interest. "You know trucks?"

"A little. My first car was held together by replacement parts and considerable optimism."

"Hn. Mine's mostly replacement parts by now."

"Some things are worth keeping as they age."

Zoro snorted. "That's a new one."

Sanji laughed softly, and Zoro decided he rather liked the sound.

Mrs. Buckingham appeared beside them to ask whether Zoro wanted coffee or tea. He accepted coffee, black.

A loud voice sounded from the corridor. "Well, well! The whole miserable family gathered together!"

A moment later, the door opened and an exceptionally tall blond man swept into the room wearing a voluminous pink feathered coat. He had sunglasses pushed up into his hair and an enormous grin that showed far too many teeth. "Sorry I'm late. Roads are absolutely dreadful. Half the bloody countryside's underwater." 

A few loose feathers drifted from his coat as he shrugged it off. Most were pink, although several were white. 

"Doflamingo," Mihawk said, sounding unimpressed. "You're the final arrival."

"Wouldn't miss this for the world." Doflamingo draped his feathered coat over a chair, then surveyed the room. His gaze settled on Zoro. "And who's this handsome fellow?"

"Roronoa Zoro," Mihawk supplied. "One of the beneficiaries."

Doflamingo's grin widened. "Fufufu. Rayleigh certainly had interesting taste in acquaintances."

Zoro raised an eyebrow.

Sanji stepped closer, his shoulder almost brushing Zoro's. "He's been here thirty seconds and he's already trying to get into your pants."

Zoro gave him a sideways look, then snorted in amusement. 

Mihawk cleared his throat. "Now that everyone has arrived, perhaps we can begin."

He gestured toward the chairs arranged before his desk.

Zoro took an empty seat near the end of the row. Sanji settled into the chair next to him, crossing one leg over the other.

Doflamingo occupied the largest armchair without asking, while Crocodile remained near the fireplace. The others found seats, although Caesar complained that the room was too cold and Moria continued examining the furnishings until Mihawk called his name.

Mrs. Buckingham returned with Zoro's coffee, placed the cup beside him, and quietly withdrew.

Rain hammered against the tall windows, running down the glass in thick streams. A flash of lightning briefly illuminated the grounds, followed several seconds later by a crack of thunder loud enough to interrupt the conversations around the room. The fire crackled in the grate. 

Mihawk opened a leather folder on his desk. "Thank you for coming. I understand that several of you have traveled considerable distances, and I appreciate your patience. As executor of Silvers Rayleigh's estate, it's my responsibility to explain the provisions of his final will and testament and oversee the distribution of his assets."

"Then get on with it," Buggy muttered.

Mihawk ignored him. He began with several charitable bequests, including substantial donations to educational institutions and maritime organizations. There were gifts to longtime employees, trusts established for former business associates, and smaller personal items left to various acquaintances.

Zoro listened with growing confusion. He'd known Rayleigh for two days. The man had been funny, talkative, and surprisingly knowledgeable about martial arts. He'd eaten Zoro's terrible cooking without complaint and beaten him at cards three times. Zoro couldn't imagine what he'd done to deserve inclusion in any of this.

Mihawk moved on to the family beneficiaries. Buggy received fifty thousand dollars, a sum that made him sit bolt upright. "Fifty thousand? That's it? Rayleigh promised he'd take care of me!"

"Mr. Buggy, please allow me to finish," Mihawk said.

"He told me I wouldn't have to worry about money," Buggy protested, raising his voice over Mihawk's. 

Mihawk waited until Buggy subsided before continuing. Moria was bequeathed several specified antiques and a modest financial settlement. Crocodile received shares in one of Rayleigh's companies, while Lucci inherited a portfolio of investments. Caesar received a substantial cash bequest and ownership of a pharmaceutical holding company. 

Doflamingo, apparently, was left a collection of rare wines and a monetary amount that made him laugh aloud. "Cheap bastard," he said affectionately.

Mihawk continued without acknowledging him. "And finally, regarding Kuraigana Manor and its associated lands."

The room became noticeably attentive. Zoro took another sip of coffee.

"The entirety of the estate, comprising the principal residence, outbuildings, gardens, woodland, agricultural acreage, and all remaining property attached to the title, is bequeathed to Roronoa Zoro."

Zoro lowered his cup.

For a moment, nobody spoke.

Then Caesar shot to his feet. "WHAT?"

Buggy nearly fell out of his chair. Crocodile slowly removed the cigar from his mouth, while Lucci's expression hardened. Doflamingo began laughing.

Zoro stared at Mihawk. "Me?"

"Yes."

"The house?"

"The estate in its entirety."

Zoro looked around the room, half expecting someone to explain the joke. "Why?"

"That is a matter Rayleigh addressed in a personal letter to you." Mihawk retrieved an envelope from the folder and set it aside.

The protests began immediately. Caesar demanded to know how a complete stranger had managed to manipulate an elderly man into changing his will. Buggy shouted that it was ridiculous for Zoro to receive an entire mansion while he got fifty thousand dollars. Crocodile wanted clarification on the ownership of the surrounding land, particularly several parcels bordering the main road. Lucci remained seated, although his jaw had tightened. 

"Rayleigh always intended for the estate to remain in the family," Lucci said.

Mihawk looked toward him. "He changed his mind."

"After generations of ownership? He wouldn't have given it away without a reason."

"His wishes are quite clear."

Lucci settled back in his chair, his expression hardening.

Doflamingo seemed delighted by the entire spectacle. "Fufufu. An excellent joke from beyond the grave."

Zoro looked toward Sanji. The blond was watching the relatives with a faint frown, his earlier amusement gone. When he noticed Zoro looking, his expression softened. "Quite an inheritance," he said quietly.

"Yeah." Zoro looked down at his coffee. "Apparently."

Mihawk allowed the uproar to continue for another minute before raising his voice. "The will has been properly executed and witnessed. Rayleigh was legally competent when he signed it. Any challenges may be directed through the appropriate channels, but the provisions stand."

Caesar opened his mouth.

"Sit down, Mr. Caesar."

The cold authority in Mihawk's voice was enough to make Caesar hesitate before dropping back into his chair.

Mihawk continued explaining the remaining provisions, but Zoro barely heard him. He was thinking about the roof. The windows. The heating bills. The property taxes. He looked around the study, at the expensive furniture and the fire burning in the enormous fireplace.

He'd have to sell. There was absolutely no way he could afford to keep a place this size. And from the expressions around him, several people were already planning to make him an offer.

By the time Mihawk finished, the room had descended into another argument. Crocodile was demanding information about the land boundaries. Caesar wanted copies of Rayleigh's medical records, apparently intending to challenge his mental competency. Buggy kept insisting Rayleigh had promised him enough money to set himself up for life, although nobody seemed particularly interested in hearing his claims. 

Doflamingo lounged in his chair, watching Zoro with undisguised interest.

Sanji had remained beside him throughout, occasionally leaning over to explain a term Mihawk used or quietly comment on the proceedings. Zoro appreciated it. Legal terminology had never been his strong suit.

Eventually, Mihawk announced that anyone wishing to contest the will should arrange a separate appointment. He clarified that Zoro had a week to decide whether to accept the estate permanently, and that Caesar remained the secondary beneficiary until the decision was final. He was prepared to discuss individual bequests, but the reading was concluded. 

"Mrs. Buckingham has arranged dinner for seven," he added. "You're all welcome to stay, particularly given the weather. I understand several of you have a considerable drive ahead of you."

Another roll of thunder sounded overhead, and Zoro glanced toward the windows. The rain had gotten worse since he'd arrived.

The relatives began filing out.

Crocodile paused beside Zoro's chair. "Mr. Roronoa. When you've had an opportunity to consider your position, I'd appreciate a private conversation concerning the property."

"Sure."

"I can make you a very attractive offer."

"Good to know."

Crocodile handed him a business card and departed.

Doflamingo followed, stopping long enough to lean down toward Zoro. "Congratulations, handsome. Perhaps we can celebrate later."

Zoro regarded him without enthusiasm. "I'll pass."

"Fufufu. We'll see."

A pink feather drifted onto the carpet as he left.

Sanji watched him go. "Persistent fellow."

"Seems that way."

"You're welcome to hide behind me if he comes back."

Zoro looked at Sanji's slimmer build, then down at his own shoulders. "Think you could take him?"

Sanji smiled. "I'm very good at handling difficult men."

Zoro grinned. "Good to know."

Sanji's visible eye narrowed with amusement. "I'll leave you to your business," he said. "Come find me when you're finished. I'll buy you a drink."

"Aren't the drinks already free?"

"Then I'll buy you two." He gave Zoro a small wave and followed the others into the corridor.

Zoro watched him leave, taking another moment to appreciate the view. Then he turned back toward Mihawk. "All right. Can you explain what the hell just happened?"

Mihawk settled behind his desk. "I'll do my best."

Zoro took the chair opposite him, accepted the envelope Mihawk offered, and turned it over in his hands. His name was written across the front in an unfamiliar, somewhat shaky hand. He opened it carefully. Inside was a single sheet of paper.

You gave me a roof over my head when I needed one. I thought I'd return the favor. Do whatever you want with the place, son. You've earned that much.

For a while, Zoro stared at the handwriting. He remembered Rayleigh sitting on his couch with a bowl of rice balanced on one knee, laughing at some ridiculous scene on television. He remembered the old man insisting on washing the dishes despite Zoro telling him to sit down. He remembered the handshake they'd shared when Rayleigh finally left, and the way he'd thanked Zoro for his hospitality.

"Crazy old bastard," Zoro muttered.

Mihawk raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry." Zoro folded the letter carefully. "He was a good guy."

"Yes," Mihawk said. "He was."

Zoro slipped the letter back into its envelope. "So what am I supposed to do with a mansion?"

"Whatever you wish. Rayleigh was quite explicit about that."

"Can't afford to live here."

"You could sell it."

"That's what I'm thinking."

Mihawk nodded. "The property is valuable. Considerably more valuable than you may realize."

Zoro glanced toward the windows. Another flash of lightning illuminated the courtyard, followed by thunder that rattled the panes. "Yeah, I got that impression." 

He picked up the copy of the will and began scanning the pages, trying to make sense of the legal language. Most of it concerned trusts, financial arrangements, and the distribution of assets. Near the end, he found his name again. Below it was Caesar's. "What's this mean?"

Mihawk leaned forward to see where he was pointing. "Mr. Caesar is the secondary beneficiary of the estate."

"Secondary?"

"Rayleigh originally intended to leave the estate to Caesar. He subsequently revised the will and named you as the primary beneficiary. If you decline the inheritance or die before your acceptance becomes final, the property passes to Caesar."

Zoro frowned. "Why'd he change it?"

"He never explained his reasons to me."

"Wasn't he sick?"

"Yes. Although his condition had been relatively manageable until shortly before his death."

Zoro looked up. Mihawk's expression had become thoughtful. "His health declined rather suddenly. He revised his will only a short time before he died. I hadn't expected his death to follow so soon."

"Did he know he was dying?"

"He knew he was elderly and unwell. His death was attributed to natural causes, and there was nothing in the official findings to suggest otherwise." Mihawk hesitated, then added, "Rayleigh was concerned about how his family would react to the revised will. He specifically asked me to make certain you weren't left alone with any of them for too long."

Zoro raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

"Yes. He knew his relatives rather well."

"Hn." Zoro looked down at Caesar's name again. "This Caesar guy seems pretty pissed."

"He had every expectation of inheriting the estate."

"Wouldn't he get it if I said no?"

"Yes."

Zoro considered the paperwork for a moment. "Maybe I should."

"I would advise against that."

"Why?"

"Because you'd be surrendering an asset of considerable value. You're under no obligation to keep the property. Accept it, have it properly appraised, and decide what to do afterward."

Zoro sat back in his chair. That made sense. His dojo's mortgage wasn't enormous, but he still had years left to pay. The building needed a new roof, two of the changing rooms required renovations, and he'd been putting off replacing the heating system for three winters. Selling the estate would take care of all of it, probably with enough left over that he wouldn't have to worry about money again.

He looked toward the window, where rain continued running down the glass. "Rayleigh knew what he was doing, huh?"

"He generally did."

Zoro gave a small, incredulous laugh. "Guess I should've asked him more questions."

Mihawk's mouth curved faintly. "That was one of Rayleigh's favorite complaints about his acquaintances. They asked too many."

Zoro grinned. "He talked enough for both of us."

"Indeed."

They spent another twenty minutes reviewing the practical details. Mihawk explained that an inventory of the mansion's contents was underway, that certain personal possessions had been specifically bequeathed to other beneficiaries, and that Zoro would need to decide whether he wanted to retain the household staff.

He also produced a document for Zoro to sign, acknowledging his conditional acceptance of the inheritance. Zoro would have until the following Friday to make his decision final. If he declined or died before then, the estate would pass to Caesar.

"You're sure I can still sell it?" Zoro asked.

"Absolutely. Accepting the inheritance doesn't require you to keep the property."

"Good."

Zoro signed. He hadn't considered the staff, either. He'd never employed anyone in his life, apart from the part-time instructors at his dojo. He asked Mihawk to arrange an appraisal and agreed to spend the weekend examining the property.

By the time they finished, the grandfather clock in the hall had struck five. Zoro gathered the documents, tucked Rayleigh's letter safely into the folder, and stood. "Thanks for explaining everything."

"You're welcome. Mrs. Buckingham will show you to your room."

Zoro hesitated. "One more thing."

"Yes?"

"Those relatives of his. Are they always that pleasant?"

Mihawk regarded him for a long moment. "Today was comparatively restrained."

Zoro chuckled. "Great. Looking forward to dinner."

Mihawk rose and accompanied him to the door.

Beyond the study, the mansion was filled with muted conversation and the occasional raised voice. Rain hammered against the windows, and a gust of wind drove water beneath one of the corridor's old window frames. Farther down the hall, someone was arguing about the value of an antique.

Zoro glanced toward the entrance hall, where Mrs. Buckingham was directing a servant to place additional mats near the doors. The weather had gotten considerably worse since he'd arrived, and several of Rayleigh's relatives apparently had a long drive home after dinner. He hoped they'd have enough sense to wait until the worst of it passed.

Mrs. Buckingham noticed him and came over, offering to show him to his room. Zoro followed her toward the staircase, glancing around at the expensive furnishings and portraits lining the walls. He still had trouble believing he’d inherited an enormous mansion from an old man he'd known for two days, half the family seemed to hate him already, and he had another three nights before he could return to his ordinary life.

At least the blond was attractive. And he'd promised Zoro a drink.

Mrs. Buckingham led Zoro up the main staircase, past portraits of people who'd probably been dead for a century. The carpet was thick enough to muffle their footsteps, and the carved wooden banister had been polished to a shine. Halfway up, he glanced back at the entrance hall. From above, he could see the intricate pattern of the marble floor and the enormous chandelier suspended from the ceiling. He wondered how much it cost to have the thing cleaned.

At the top of the stairs, Mrs. Buckingham turned down a wide corridor. More portraits lined the walls, interspersed with antique tables, upholstered chairs, and occasional arrangements of fresh flowers. Tall windows overlooked the courtyard, where rain continued to fall in torrents. Several branches had come down from the trees bordering the drive, and water was collecting around the base of the fountain.

"Mr. Mihawk asked that you be given the principal guest suite," Mrs. Buckingham explained. "It has a sitting room and a private bathroom. I hope you'll find it comfortable."

"Anything's fine."

"I'm certain you'll be pleased with the accommodations, sir."

Zoro doubted he needed an entire suite, but he followed her around a corner and stopped while she unlocked a set of double doors.

The sitting room was larger than his apartment. A dark green sofa and two armchairs occupied the space around a marble fireplace, with a low table between them. Bookshelves covered one wall, and a writing desk stood beneath a window overlooking the gardens. A pair of glass doors opened onto a narrow balcony, currently obscured by rain. The carpet was patterned in burgundy and gold, and heavy curtains framed the windows.

Through another doorway, Zoro could see a bedroom with an enormous four-poster bed. "Damn."

Mrs. Buckingham glanced at him. "Is something wrong?"

"No. Just wasn't expecting all this."

"Lord Rayleigh preferred that his guests be comfortable."

She showed him the bedroom, which had its own fireplace, a wardrobe large enough to hold everything Zoro owned, and an upholstered bench at the foot of the bed. His duffel had been placed on a luggage stand beside the wardrobe.

A dressing room connected the bedroom to the bathroom, where Zoro discovered a freestanding bathtub, a separate shower, and enough marble to renovate both bathrooms at his dojo.

Mrs. Buckingham also indicated a connecting door in the dressing room. "That leads to the adjoining guest room. It's currently occupied, but the door will remain locked for your privacy."

"Got it."

"There's a telephone on the bedside table. You can reach the kitchen or any of the household staff by dialing the appropriate extension. The directory is beside it."

Zoro nodded, wondering why anyone would need to telephone someone in the same house.

"Dinner will be served at seven. Mr. Mihawk generally prefers that guests assemble in the drawing room beforehand. Would you care for anything in the meantime?"

"Nah, I'm good. Thanks."

"Very well, sir. I'll leave you to settle in."

She withdrew, closing the doors behind her.

Zoro stood in the sitting room for a moment, taking another look around. The place was beautifully maintained, although he could already see expenses everywhere. There were three fireplaces in the suite alone, and the windows were nearly twice the height of those in his apartment.

He crossed to the balcony doors and looked outside. The formal gardens had been laid out in geometric patterns, with trimmed hedges bordering gravel walks and a broad stone terrace extending from the rear of the mansion. Several fountains stood among the flower beds, although none appeared to be operating. Beyond the gardens, the grounds descended toward a wooded valley.

Rain swept across the terrace, driven almost horizontally by the wind. A tree near the garden wall bent under a particularly strong gust, and a few more branches came down.

Zoro frowned. He'd passed the flooded creek on the way in. If the rain kept up, getting back out might become a problem.

He checked his phone. He still had service, although the signal was weaker than he'd expected. His senior instructor had sent a message confirming that Saturday's classes were covered, followed by a photograph of two students attempting to repair the vending machine in the lobby.

Zoro sighed and sent back instructions to unplug the damn thing before they electrocuted themselves.

He put the phone away, unpacked his toiletries, and changed into a new shirt. His good jacket was probably hanging somewhere downstairs, still soaked. At least he'd brought a second one.

He considered the enormous bed for a moment, then sat on the edge to test the mattress. Comfortable. He leaned backward, stretched out, and stared at the canopy overhead. He could get used to this part.

A particularly loud clap of thunder made the windows rattle. Zoro turned his head toward the balcony, watching another flash of lightning illuminate the gardens. He'd have to ask Mihawk about insurance. If a tree came down on the house before he sold it, he'd probably be responsible for that, too.

By quarter to seven, Zoro had grown tired of sitting in his room. He'd spent some time examining the bookshelves and discovered that Rayleigh apparently enjoyed military history, sailing, and detective novels. There was a complete collection of Agatha Christie books occupying two shelves, several with cracked spines and folded corners. Zoro pulled one out, read a few pages, then put it back.

He went downstairs, following the main staircase to the entrance hall. Mrs. Buckingham was speaking to another member of the staff near the front doors. A bucket sat beneath a window in the adjoining corridor, collecting water that had seeped through the old frame. Someone was going to have to fix that.

Zoro looked at the bucket, considered the probable age of the windows, and continued toward the drawing room. He found it on his second attempt, having initially turned down a corridor that led to the conservatory.

Several guests were already assembled. Crocodile occupied an armchair near the fireplace, nursing a glass of amber liquor. Buggy was examining the bottles on a sideboard, while Moria stood beside a display cabinet containing several pieces of antique silver. Lucci sat near the windows, Hattori perched on his shoulder, reading something on his phone.

Sanji stood at the drinks table. He looked up when Zoro entered and smiled. "Ah, there you are. I was beginning to think you'd gotten lost."

"Took a wrong turn."

"Easy to do in this place." Sanji held up a bottle. "Drink?"

"What've you got?"

"Whiskey, brandy, gin, and a rather impressive collection of things I've never heard of."

"Whiskey's fine."

Sanji poured him a measure, added two fingers to a second glass, and handed the first over. "How's your room?"

"Bigger than my apartment."

Sanji laughed. "I imagine most of the rooms here are."

"Bathroom's probably bigger, too."

"Now I'm curious."

Zoro glanced at him. "About the bathroom?"

"About your apartment."

"Not much to see. Bed, couch, some weights."

"Sounds practical."

"Gets the job done."

Sanji took a sip of his drink. "And here I thought I'd have to spend the evening listening to someone complain about the size of their inheritance."

Zoro looked toward the others. Buggy was currently arguing with Moria about whether a particular bottle of whiskey had been included in the bequests. "Think they've got that covered."

"Thoroughly."

Sanji leaned against the sideboard, apparently content to keep Zoro company. Up close, the blond looked even better than he had earlier. His hair was pulled loosely behind his head, although several strands had escaped around his face. The blue shirt he'd worn for the will reading had been exchanged for a dark one, open at the throat.

Zoro took a drink of whiskey. "So what do you do?" he asked.

"Consulting, mostly," Sanji replied.

"What kind?"

"Security and risk management."

"Huh. For businesses?"

"Usually. Private clients, too."

"Must keep you busy."

"It does,” Sanji said. “What about you? Mihawk mentioned you own a dojo."

"Yeah. Been running it for about twelve years."

"What do you teach?"

"Martial arts. Mostly karate and jujutsu. Some weapons training."

Sanji's expression became more interested. "You teach weapons?"

"Swords, mostly. Traditional stuff."

"That explains the shoulders."

Zoro glanced down at himself, then back at Sanji. The blond was smiling into his glass.

Zoro grinned. "You always this friendly?"

"Only when I've got good company."

"Must be having a rough weekend."

Sanji laughed, lowering his drink. "You have no idea."

A loud crash interrupted them. Buggy had knocked a silver tray off the sideboard, scattering several glasses across the carpet.

"Oh, for God's sake," Crocodile said.

"It slipped."

"You were trying to open a bottle with the tray underneath it."

"Well, maybe if somebody had put out a proper corkscrew."

Mrs. Buckingham appeared almost immediately, followed by a younger servant carrying a cloth. Buggy protested that he could clean up after himself, although he made no attempt to do so.

Zoro watched the exchange with mild disbelief. "Are they always like this?"

"I've only just met most of them," Sanji admitted. "But I suspect we're seeing their usual behavior."

"Rayleigh must've had a lot of patience."

"Or an excellent sense of humor."

"He had that."

Sanji looked at him. "You knew him personally?"

"Couple days. Last winter."

"Mihawk mentioned you helped him during a storm."

"Yeah,” Zoro said. “Car went off the road near my place. He was stuck."

"That was fortunate for him."

"Pretty damn cold out. Couldn't leave him sitting there."

Sanji regarded him for a moment, then smiled. "Rayleigh must've appreciated it."

"Guess so." 

Zoro glanced toward the hallway as another guest entered. Doflamingo had changed into a dark suit, although he still wore an open-necked shirt and an excessive amount of jewelry. Without the pink coat, he looked marginally less ridiculous.

He spotted Zoro almost immediately. "There's our lucky heir."

Zoro sighed into his whiskey.

Doflamingo approached, smiling broadly. "Enjoying your new home?"

"Been here about four hours."

"And already entertaining guests. Generous of you."

"Didn't invite anyone."

"Fufufu. Details." His gaze shifted toward Sanji. "And you've made a friend."

"Seems that way," Zoro said.

Sanji raised his glass in greeting. "Good evening."

Doflamingo looked between them, apparently amused. "Well, don't let me interrupt."

He moved toward Crocodile, who regarded his approach with obvious distaste.

Zoro watched him go. "Guy's weird."

Sanji took another sip. "That's one word for him."

A flash of lightning illuminated the room, followed almost immediately by a deafening crack of thunder. The windows rattled, and Buggy gave a startled shout from the sideboard.

Zoro looked outside. Rain battered the glass, obscuring the gardens beyond. "Hope that creek's still passable."

Sanji followed his gaze. "Creek?"

"Road crosses one on the way in. Water was already pretty high."

"That's concerning."

"Yeah. Wouldn't want to drive across it now."

Sanji's expression grew thoughtful, although he said nothing more.

Dinner was served in a formal dining room that could've accommodated twice their number. A long polished table stood beneath two elaborate chandeliers, surrounded by high-backed chairs upholstered in dark green fabric. Portraits occupied the walls between tall windows, and a marble fireplace burned at the far end of the room. Heavy curtains had been drawn against the storm, although the wind still rattled the glass.

Zoro took a seat where Mrs. Buckingham directed him, several places down from Mihawk. Sanji ended up beside him again. Zoro was beginning to suspect that might be deliberate.

He didn't mind.

The meal began with soup, followed by roasted beef, vegetables, and potatoes prepared considerably better than anything Zoro could've managed himself. A servant moved around the table filling wineglasses, and Mrs. Buckingham supervised the proceedings from near the kitchen door.

Zoro was halfway through his beef when Caesar began complaining about Rayleigh's will again.

"The entire arrangement is absurd," he declared. "Rayleigh was clearly incapable of making reasonable decisions during his final illness."

"He seemed perfectly reasonable when I saw him," Lucci said.

"You're hardly qualified to assess his mental state."

"And you are?"

"I'm a scientist!"

"Pharmaceutical researcher," Crocodile corrected. "There's a difference."

Caesar glared at him.

Mihawk set down his wineglass. "Rayleigh's competency was established when the will was executed. We've already discussed this."

"Then perhaps we should discuss why a complete stranger has been given the family's ancestral property!" Caesar snapped.

Several faces turned toward Zoro. He finished chewing before answering. "Didn't ask for it."

"Yet you're perfectly happy to accept."

"Still thinking about it."

Buggy leaned forward. "Then don't. Give it to someone who actually deserves it."

"Such as yourself?" Crocodile asked.

"Why the hell not?" Buggy said. "Rayleigh promised he'd take care of me. Fifty thousand dollars isn't gonna last five minutes!"

"Especially when you owe me seventy-five thousand," Moria said.

Buggy whipped around. "Shut up!"

Zoro raised his eyebrows.

"Seventy-five thousand?" Crocodile repeated, looking interested.

"It's none of your damn business."

"You borrowed it last month," Moria snapped. "And you promised to pay me back when you got your inheritance." 

"I'll pay you."

"With what?"

Buggy opened his mouth, then closed it.

Crocodile chuckled. "Well, that explains the disappointment."

"Watch your mouth."

Zoro reached for his wineglass.

Sanji leaned toward him. "At this rate, dessert should be entertaining."

Zoro snorted.

"Well,” Caesar sniffed, “if Rayleigh had left it to me as he originally intended, I might've kept the place."

Crocodile raised an eyebrow. "You? Maintaining an estate this size?"

"Why not? I've spent more time here than most of you. I practically lived here for six months while Rayleigh was ill."

"And complained about the accommodations the entire time," Crocodile said.

Caesar ignored him. "Besides, the grounds are useful for my research. There's an extraordinary variety of fungi in the woods, and Rayleigh let me cultivate medicinal plants in one of the greenhouses."

Lucci looked toward him. "You'd actually keep the property?"

"I just said I might."

"It belongs in the family," Lucci replied. "If anyone ought to have inherited it, you should have."

Mihawk eventually brought the conversation back under control, although the relatives continued exchanging pointed remarks throughout the meal.

Crocodile questioned Zoro about his intentions for the property. Moria wanted to know whether Zoro planned to sell the contents separately. Caesar repeatedly mentioned the cost of maintaining the grounds, apparently hoping to discourage him from keeping the place.

Lucci remained relatively silent, occasionally asking practical questions about the estate's ownership and the terms of the inheritance.

Doflamingo seemed more interested in Zoro personally. 

"So, Zoro," he said during dessert, "tell us about this little business of yours."

"Dojo."

"Yes, yes. Teaching children to kick one another, is it?"

"Adults, mostly. Kids' classes on Saturdays."

"How quaint." Doflamingo smiled. "You must find running a business terribly demanding."

"Pays the bills," Zoro said. 

"Well, you've got much better prospects now." Doflamingo ran his fingers up and down the stem of his wineglass. "Perhaps I could show you how to enjoy your new circumstances." 

"Got plans already."

"Fufufu. I'm certain we could make arrangements."

Sanji lifted his wineglass. "He's already got someone offering to show him around the property tomorrow," he said pleasantly.

Zoro turned toward him. "Do I?"

"If you'd care for the company."

"Sure."

Sanji smiled. Doflamingo's grin became a little less enthusiastic. Across the table, Crocodile rolled his eyes.

A particularly violent gust struck the windows, followed by a sustained rumble of thunder. One of the servants hurried over to check a curtain that had come loose from its fastening.

Mrs. Buckingham entered through the kitchen door and approached Mihawk, speaking quietly into his ear. Mihawk listened, then nodded. "Thank you. Please keep me informed."

Zoro watched her leave. "Problem?"

"One of the upstairs windows has developed a leak," Mihawk explained. "The staff are attending to it."

"Another one?"

Mihawk raised an eyebrow.

"There's a bucket under one in the downstairs corridor."

"Ah. Yes. The house has needed some repairs for a while."

Zoro glanced toward the ceiling. The expenses kept building. Maybe he should pass on the inheritance. 

The meal eventually concluded with coffee and a selection of desserts. By then, the storm had been going for hours, and Zoro could hear the wind even through the thick stone walls. He'd assumed most of the relatives would be leaving after dinner, but several were still arguing over their bequests. Crocodile wanted another private meeting with Mihawk, and Buggy was demanding to inspect items he'd apparently expected to inherit. Mihawk suggested that outstanding questions could be addressed through his office over the following week. It didn't satisfy anyone.

Zoro was finishing his coffee when Mrs. Buckingham appeared again. "Mr. Mihawk, I'm afraid the weather is deteriorating. The local radio is advising against unnecessary travel."

Mihawk frowned.

Doflamingo glanced toward the windows. "Well, that's inconvenient."

"Quite," Crocodile said. "I've a meeting tomorrow morning."

"So do I," Buggy announced.

Nobody seemed interested.

Zoro looked around the table. "You guys can stay here tonight."

The conversation stopped. Mihawk turned toward him.

Zoro shrugged. "Place has enough bedrooms, doesn't it? Roads are shit right now. Might as well wait until morning."

Caesar stared at him suspiciously. "You're inviting us to stay?"

"Yeah."

"All of us?"

"That's what I said."

Doflamingo laughed. "What a gracious host."

Zoro ignored him.

Mrs. Buckingham looked toward Mihawk, who considered the matter briefly before nodding. "An excellent suggestion. Mrs. Buckingham, would you arrange accommodations for our guests?"

"Certainly, sir."

"And perhaps have someone check the road conditions in the morning."

"Very good."

Zoro finished his coffee, satisfied that the matter was settled. He was already staying until Monday, and the house had more rooms than he could count. There was no reason to send a bunch of people out into weather that might get them killed. Even if most of them were assholes.

Sanji leaned closer. "That was very generous of you."

"Not a big deal."

"You've only just met these people."

"Yeah, well. Doesn't mean I want them driving into a ditch."

Sanji regarded him for a moment, then smiled. "You're an interesting man, Zoro."

Zoro glanced at him. "That good or bad?"

"Very good."

Zoro felt his face warm slightly and took another drink of coffee.

The drawing room was considerably more pleasant once most of the relatives had dispersed. Buggy and Moria had gone upstairs to inspect their accommodations. Caesar had retired with a bottle of brandy, complaining about the quality of the household staff. Crocodile remained in the dining room speaking privately with Mihawk, while Lucci had disappeared somewhere with his pigeon. Doflamingo was still around, unfortunately, but he'd found someone else to bother.

Zoro stood beside the fireplace with a fresh glass of whiskey. Sanji joined him a few minutes later, carrying his own drink. "Well, you've certainly made an impression."

"By giving people bedrooms?"

"By inheriting an estate worth a small fortune and immediately offering hospitality to the people who resent you for it."

Zoro shrugged. "They're not gonna hurt me."

Sanji's expression shifted briefly, although his smile returned almost at once. "Let's hope they appreciate the gesture."

"Not holding my breath."

Sanji laughed.

They stood together for a while, talking about Zoro's dojo and Sanji's work. Sanji had traveled extensively, apparently spending considerable time abroad, and he had an amusing collection of stories about wealthy clients who made unreasonable demands.

Zoro told him about a student who'd accidentally put his foot through a wall during an overly enthusiastic demonstration, then tried to repair the damage with duct tape before Zoro noticed. Sanji laughed hard enough to lower his glass. "Please tell me you made him fix it properly."

"Made him help. Cost me three hundred bucks."

"Expensive lesson."

"Kid's still taking classes, though."

"Then perhaps he learned something."

"Mostly that drywall's expensive."

They exchanged smiles.

Zoro was enjoying himself more than he'd expected. Sanji was easy to talk to, attractive, and apparently interested in listening to him. He also had a sense of humor Zoro appreciated, particularly when it came to the relatives.

Another loud crack of thunder interrupted their conversation.

Sanji glanced toward the windows. "Still going."

"Yeah. Hope it lets up before morning."

"Do you think the road will flood?"

"Maybe. Creek was already getting close."

Sanji nodded thoughtfully. "Guess we'll find out."

Zoro took another sip of whiskey. A grandfather clock in the hall struck ten. He glanced toward the doorway, considering whether he should head upstairs. He'd been driving for hours, and the afternoon's revelations had left him with plenty to think about.

Sanji seemed to notice. "Tired?"

"Getting there."

"Then I should probably let you get some rest."

"Probably."

Neither moved immediately.

Sanji smiled. "Breakfast tomorrow?"

"Sure."

"Excellent. I imagine Mrs. Buckingham will have something considerably better than whatever you usually eat at home."

"Rice and eggs?"

"That's breakfast?"

"Sometimes lunch, too."

Sanji shook his head, looking amused. "We'll have to do something about that."

Zoro grinned. "You're welcome to try."

"I might take you up on it."

They finished their drinks, and Sanji accompanied him toward the staircase.

The mansion had grown quieter as the guests retired, although the storm continued outside. Rainwater ran down the tall windows beside the entrance, and the front doors rattled occasionally in the wind.

At the bottom of the stairs, Sanji paused. "Good night, Zoro."

"Night." Zoro started up, then glanced back. Sanji was still standing near the staircase, watching him with a faint smile.

"Something else?" Zoro asked.

"Just making sure you find your room."

Zoro snorted. "Already found it once."

"Then you're ahead of me. Took me three tries earlier."

"That's reassuring."

Sanji laughed and turned toward the opposite corridor.

Zoro continued upstairs, passing the portraits and antique furniture, and eventually located his suite. He closed the door behind him and switched on the bedside lamp.

Outside, the rain had finally eased a little, although wind still shook the branches beyond the windows. Zoro changed into a T-shirt and shorts, brushed his teeth, and climbed into the enormous bed. The mattress was comfortable, the sheets expensive, and the room warm despite the weather. He settled beneath the blankets, considering the events of the day.

Rayleigh had left him a mansion. The relatives were furious. He'd probably have to sell the place before the maintenance bills ruined him.

And he'd met Sanji.

Zoro smiled to himself. That last part had turned out pretty well.

Outside, the rain picked up again.

He rolled onto his side and went to sleep.

Zoro had to admit that the bathroom alone was worth more than most hotel rooms he'd stayed in. The shower had six adjustable jets, a rainfall head mounted in the ceiling, and a digital control panel that took him several minutes to figure out. Once he'd gotten the temperature right, the water pressure was excellent. He spent longer under the spray than he usually allowed himself at home, working the stiffness out of his shoulders and enjoying the heated tile beneath his feet.

He could definitely get used to the heated floors.

He dried off with a towel large enough to wrap around himself twice, shaved, and returned to the bedroom to get dressed. He'd brought jeans and a few decent shirts, figuring that the will reading was the only occasion requiring anything particularly formal. Today, he settled on dark jeans and a fitted black T-shirt, then pulled on a clean button-down in a deep green that he left open at the collar.

Standing before the dressing-room mirror, he combed his hair and adjusted his shirt. Then he turned slightly, examining himself from the side. He sucked in his stomach.

The difference was noticeable, though probably only to him. He'd been in better shape when he was competing regularly, before owning a dojo meant spending most of his time teaching classes, dealing with paperwork, and worrying about whether he'd make enough to cover the bills. He still lifted weights and trained when he could, but he'd acquired a little padding around his middle over the past several years.

Zoro held his stomach in for another moment, then let it go and gave himself a dry look in the mirror. Forty-one years old, and he was standing in front of a mirror trying to impress a pretty blond he'd met yesterday.

He straightened his collar, checked that his earrings were sitting properly, and decided that was enough.

His phone showed a little after eight. He'd slept surprisingly well, considering the unfamiliar surroundings, although the storm had woken him once or twice during the night. Rain had continued against the windows until sometime before dawn, accompanied by several particularly loud cracks of thunder. It had finally stopped.

Outside the bedroom windows, the gardens were soaked, with puddles covering portions of the gravel walks. The sky remained heavily overcast, and water dripped steadily from the roof above the balcony. A few branches lay scattered across the lawn.

Zoro checked the weather on his phone. More rain was possible later, but the worst appeared to have passed. Good. Maybe the creek would go down before Monday.

He pocketed his phone, left the suite, and headed downstairs for breakfast. 

At least, that was the plan.

Ten minutes later, Zoro was standing in an unfamiliar corridor on the second floor, examining a collection of old hunting prints and trying to remember whether he'd already passed the same grandfather clock. He was reasonably certain he had.

The main staircase had been easy enough to find yesterday. This morning, he'd taken a different turn after leaving his room, intending to find a shorter route, and ended up in a section of the mansion that looked considerably older than the guest wing. The wallpaper had faded, the carpet was worn in places, and several pieces of furniture stood beneath white dust covers.

He tried one corridor, discovered it ended at a locked door, and turned back. "Stupid fucking house," he muttered.

A faint scraping noise came from somewhere ahead. Zoro stopped. The sound came again, followed by a muffled curse.

He followed it around the corner and found Gecko Moria standing beside an open cabinet, examining a small object in his hand.

The large man started when he saw Zoro. "Gyah! What're you doing here?"

"Trying to find breakfast."

Moria stared at him. "Breakfast?"

"Yeah. Got turned around."

Moria looked down the corridor behind Zoro, then back at him. "You're on the wrong side of the house."

"Figured that out."

Moria gave a peculiar laugh and slipped the object back into the cabinet. Zoro caught a glimpse of polished brass before the door closed.

"Looking at antiques?" Zoro asked.

"Family heirlooms. Rayleigh collected all sorts of things. Some of them are worth a fortune."

Zoro glanced at the cabinet. There was a clean rectangular space in the dust on one of the shelves, although he couldn't tell what had occupied it. "Thought the valuable stuff was getting inventoried."

"It is. That's why I'm looking. Rayleigh had things put away all over the house. Half the family doesn't even know what he owned."

"Huh."

Moria shut the cabinet and adjusted his coat. "Come on, then. I'll show you downstairs."

"Thanks."

They walked together through a narrow corridor that eventually opened onto a larger gallery. Moria knew the mansion well enough to navigate without hesitation, although he kept glancing toward the closed rooms they passed.

"You spend a lot of time here?" Zoro asked.

"Used to. When I was younger. Rayleigh hosted family gatherings every summer." Moria laughed. "Haven't been invited for a while."

"Why?"

"Family disagreements."

Zoro suspected that covered quite a lot.

They passed a table holding a porcelain vase and several small decorative figures. One side of the tabletop had a pale, dust-free patch where something larger had apparently been sitting.

Moria noticed him looking. "Rayleigh had a collection of antique clocks," he explained. "Some worth thousands. Wonder where they all went."

"Maybe Mihawk moved them."

"Maybe."

They reached a broad staircase, and Zoro recognized the entrance hall below. Mrs. Buckingham was speaking to a younger servant near the front doors, where several additional mats had been laid out over the marble.

"Dining room's through there," Moria said, pointing toward a corridor on the right.

"Appreciate it."

Moria gave another peculiar laugh. "Wouldn't want the new owner starving in his own house."

Zoro snorted and followed him toward breakfast.

The dining room looked considerably different in daylight. The chandeliers were unlit, and gray morning light entered through the tall windows. The heavy curtains had been drawn back, revealing the waterlogged courtyard and the trees beyond it. A long sideboard held covered serving dishes, baskets of bread, coffee, tea, and several pitchers of juice.

A few guests had already arrived. Lucci sat near the head of the table with a newspaper, Hattori perched on the back of his chair. Crocodile occupied a seat farther down, drinking coffee and reading something on his phone. Buggy was helping himself to an enormous portion of scrambled eggs.

Caesar sat across from Lucci, complaining about the condition of the estate's greenhouses. "Rayleigh stopped maintaining the eastern one years ago," Caesar said. "The heating system barely works anymore."

"It was built when our grandfather owned the property," Lucci replied. "Rayleigh used to grow orchids there."

"Well, orchids aren't much use to me. I had to bring in my own equipment to keep my specimens alive."

"At least you were making use of it."

Caesar snorted. "Somebody had to."

Lucci folded his newspaper and glanced toward the windows. "It would be a shame to see the grounds cleared for development."

Zoro was beginning to wonder how many arguments about the inheritance he was going to hear before the weekend ended. He turned his attention toward the windows, where Sanji was sitting with a cup of coffee. 

Damn, the man looked good.

He'd left his long blond hair loose this morning, the waves falling over his shoulders and down his back. He wore fitted charcoal trousers and a pale blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing his forearms. His beard was neatly trimmed, and he'd apparently been awake long enough to look completely put together.

Zoro became conscious of his own stomach again and sucked it in.

Sanji looked up from his coffee. "Morning, Zoro."

"Morning."

"Sleep well?"

"Yeah. Bed's ridiculous."

Sanji laughed. "Comfortable, though?"

"Very." Zoro took the empty chair beside him and relaxed his stomach once he was seated.

Sanji glanced toward Moria, who was already making his way to the buffet. "I see you've met Moria."

"Found him upstairs."

"Did you?"

"Got lost."

Sanji smiled over the rim of his coffee cup. "I was wondering why it took you so long to come down."

"House needs signs."

"I'll add it to your list of improvements."

Zoro snorted.

Mrs. Buckingham approached to ask whether he'd care for coffee, and he accepted a cup before getting up to inspect the buffet.

Breakfast was considerably more elaborate than anything he was accustomed to. There were eggs prepared several ways, bacon, sausages, grilled tomatoes, potatoes, mushrooms, fresh fruit, pastries, and several kinds of bread. He filled a plate with eggs, bacon, potatoes, and toast, then returned to his seat.

Sanji watched him set it down. "Healthy appetite."

"Didn't eat much yesterday before getting here."

“I’m not complaining.” Sanji smiled over his coffee cup. “I like a man who knows how to eat.”

"Then you oughta see me at an all-you-can-eat buffet." 

Sanji laughed, and Zoro felt rather pleased with himself.

Doflamingo entered while Zoro was working through his eggs. He'd dressed in a pale shirt and expensive trousers, with the pink feathered coat draped over his shoulders despite being indoors. A loose feather fell onto the carpet as he crossed the room.

Doflamingo spotted Zoro and smiled. "Good morning, handsome. Sleep well in your new palace?"

"Yeah."

"Perhaps you'll give me a tour later."

"Haven't seen most of it myself."

"Then we'll explore together."

Sanji took a sip of coffee. "I believe Zoro already has plans."

Doflamingo looked at him. "Does he?"

“He does,” Zoro spoke up for himself.

Doflamingo moved on toward the buffet, and Zoro shook his head. "Persistent bastard."

"Very," Sanji agreed.

Mihawk arrived shortly afterward, carrying a leather folder and looking perfectly dressed despite the early hour. He exchanged a few words with Mrs. Buckingham, then took a seat at the head of the table. "Good morning. I trust everyone slept reasonably well."

Buggy snorted. "Hard to sleep with that racket going on all night."

"The storm was considerable," Mihawk agreed. "Unfortunately, it's caused some difficulties with the access road."

Crocodile lowered his phone. "What difficulties?"

"The stream has overflowed its banks. The crossing is currently underwater."

Several people began speaking at once.

"Underwater?" Buggy demanded.

"How badly?" Lucci asked.

"The groundskeeper checked it shortly after seven. Vehicles can't cross safely at present."

Crocodile swore under his breath. "I have appointments this afternoon."

"I'm afraid you'll have to reschedule," Mihawk said.

"Surely there's another way out."

"There's a service track through the northern woods, but it's unsuitable for ordinary vehicles and presently in worse condition than the main road."

Doflamingo laughed. "Well. Looks as though we're all enjoying an extended family reunion."

Caesar waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, stop making such a fuss. This happens whenever we have a proper storm. The creek flooded the week before Rayleigh died, too. We were stuck here for two days before the water went down."

Zoro glanced toward him. "You were here?"

"Naturally. I stayed with Rayleigh frequently during his illness."

"How long was the road flooded?"

"Two days, I just said. It generally recedes once the rain stops."

Zoro returned to his breakfast. His truck was parked safely above the flooded crossing, and he wasn't planning to leave until Monday. As long as the water went down by then, it wouldn't affect him.

Buggy seemed considerably less pleased. "Two days? I've got things to do."

"So do the rest of us," Crocodile said.

"Well, some of us have actual businesses to run."

Crocodile regarded him over his coffee cup. "Do you?"

"Shut up."

Mihawk raised a hand before the argument could develop further. "There's little we can do until the water recedes. We have sufficient accommodations and supplies, and the household staff are prepared to continue looking after everyone. I suggest you make yourselves comfortable."

Lucci folded his newspaper. "Has anyone inspected the rest of the grounds for damage?"

"The groundskeeper has begun doing so."

Zoro looked toward the windows. A large branch lay across one of the gravel paths, and there appeared to be standing water near the far garden wall.

"I should probably have a look around the house, too," he said. "Told you I saw a couple windows leaking yesterday."

Mihawk nodded. "Mrs. Buckingham has already reported some water intrusion. The staff are attending to the immediate problems, but you're welcome to inspect the damage."

"Wouldn't mind knowing what I'm dealing with."

Sanji set down his coffee. "I'll come with you, if you'd like."

Zoro glanced at him. "Sure."

"Excellent. I haven't seen much of the house myself."

Doflamingo leaned back in his chair. "Such dedication, Sanji. Anyone would think you're trying to impress him."

Sanji smiled pleasantly. "Would it be working?"

Zoro nearly choked on his coffee.

Doflamingo laughed. "Fufufu. Well, I suppose I have some competition."

Zoro shook his head, amused despite himself, and finished his breakfast.

Once he'd emptied his plate and finished his coffee, he pushed back his chair. Sanji joined him, and they left the other guests to their conversations. Zoro had a whole mansion to look over, and he figured he might as well start with the rooms he'd already seen. 

They started with the ground floor, following the corridor toward the library and conservatory. The mansion was even more impressive in daylight, although the storm had revealed several maintenance problems. Water had seeped beneath a window in the west corridor, leaving a damp patch on the carpet. A servant had placed towels along the sill and a bucket beneath the worst of the leak.

Zoro crouched to examine the frame. "Wood's rotting."

Sanji leaned beside him. "Looks that way."

"Probably needs replacing."

"Along with half the windows in the house, judging by the age of them."

"Don't remind me."

Sanji smiled. "Planning to keep the place?"

"Still thinking about it. Couldn't afford to live here, though."

"You could rent it out."

"To who?"

"Someone with an enormous amount of money and questionable taste."

"Half the people at breakfast, then."

Sanji laughed. "Precisely."

They continued down the corridor, pausing occasionally to examine water stains, cracked plaster, and other signs of age. Zoro had spent enough years maintaining his dojo to recognize ordinary wear, although the scale of the repairs here was considerably beyond anything he'd dealt with.

A section of wallpaper had begun peeling near one of the windows, revealing damp plaster beneath. He made a mental note to ask Mihawk about the property's maintenance records.

Sanji seemed perfectly content to accompany him, occasionally asking questions about the dojo or pointing out details Zoro might've overlooked.

"You said you've been teaching for twelve years?" Sanji asked as they entered the conservatory.

"Running the place for twelve. Been teaching longer."

"How'd you get into it?"

"Started training when I was a kid. Had a few good instructors. Figured I'd do the same."

"Sounds rewarding."

"Usually."

"And when it isn't?"

"Paperwork."

Sanji laughed.

The conservatory was a broad glass-walled room overlooking the gardens, furnished with wicker chairs, small tables, and dozens of potted plants. Rainwater dripped from the roof into a bucket near one corner, and several panes had fogged with condensation.

Zoro examined a damp patch beneath the windows. "Another leak."

"At least this one's got plenty of plants to water."

"Plants don't usually grow well in the floorboards."

"Fair point."

They moved into an adjoining gallery containing several antique cabinets and display tables. Most held porcelain, silver, or small decorative objects. A few had been emptied, leaving pale rectangular outlines where dust had collected around the objects that once occupied them.

Zoro paused beside one. "Looks like somebody's been moving things."

Sanji glanced down. "Inventory, perhaps?"

"Maybe." He remembered finding Moria examining a cabinet upstairs. "Ran into Moria earlier. Guy's pretty interested in all this stuff."

"He does seem fond of antiques."

"Found him in some back hallway looking through a cabinet."

Sanji's expression became thoughtful. "Did he find anything interesting?"

"Brass thing. Couldn't tell what it was."

"Hm."

Zoro shrugged and continued walking. Sanji followed, although Zoro noticed him glancing back toward the display table before they left.

They passed through a narrow connecting corridor and emerged near the rear of the mansion. A set of glass doors opened onto a broad stone terrace overlooking the lower gardens. The rain had stopped, leaving the paving wet and scattered with leaves. Beyond the terrace, the grounds descended toward a wooded valley, with gravel paths winding between formal flower beds and trimmed hedges.

Zoro stepped outside. The air was cool and damp, carrying the smell of wet earth and grass. Water dripped from the gutters overhead, and several puddles had collected between the paving stones.

Sanji followed him. "Quite a view."

"Yeah." Zoro walked toward the railing, looking over the lower gardens. There was a significant drop to the terrace below, probably twelve or fifteen feet, with stone steps leading down at either end. He rested a hand on the railing and glanced toward the distant woods. "Wonder how far the property goes."

"Mihawk mentioned several hundred acres."

"Damn."

"Plenty of room for a dojo."

Zoro snorted. "Could fit a whole damn training camp out here."

"Now there's an idea."

"Students would get lost before they found the building."

Sanji smiled. "Wouldn't want that."

Zoro glanced at him. "You planning to follow me around all day?"

"Would that bother you?"

Zoro considered him for a moment. "No."

Sanji's smile widened. "Good."

They remained outside for a few more minutes, talking about the grounds and the possibility of converting portions of the property for commercial use. Sanji knew surprisingly much about security systems, maintenance contracts, and the practical difficulties of managing large properties.

Zoro found himself enjoying the conversation. He also found himself looking at Sanji more often than was strictly necessary.

The blond's hair had begun to curl slightly in the damp air, and a few loose strands clung to his cheek. His shirt fit well across his shoulders, and he had a graceful way of moving that Zoro associated with people who were comfortable with their bodies.

Zoro wondered if Sanji worked out. Probably.

He was still considering how to ask when a servant appeared at the terrace doors. "Mr. Roronoa?"

"Yeah?"

"Mr. Mihawk would like a word with you when you have a moment."

Zoro straightened. "Sure. Where is he?"

"In the drawing room, sir."

"Thanks."

The servant withdrew.

Sanji glanced toward Zoro. "Shall we?"

"Might as well."

Mihawk was waiting in the drawing room, standing beside the fireplace with a cup of tea. He looked up when Zoro and Sanji entered. "Ah. Zoro. I hope your inspection has been useful."

"Found a few leaks," Zoro said.

"I'm afraid you'll find more."

"That's reassuring."

Mihawk's mouth curved faintly.

Sanji remained near the doorway, and Mihawk glanced toward him briefly before returning his attention to Zoro. "There's another matter I wanted to bring to your attention."

"Something wrong?"

"Mrs. Buckingham discovered this morning that someone entered Rayleigh's bedroom during the night."

Zoro frowned. "What do you mean?"

"The room has been locked since his death, pending an inventory of its contents. When the housekeeper checked it this morning, several drawers had been opened and items disturbed."

"Anything missing?" Zoro asked.

"We haven't determined that yet."

"Who has keys?"

"Mrs. Buckingham, myself, and several members of the household staff. There may also be older copies."

Zoro thought of Moria examining the cabinet upstairs. "Could've been Moria."

Mihawk raised an eyebrow. "Why do you say that?"

"Found him looking through furniture in one of the upstairs corridors this morning. Said he was hunting for family heirlooms."

"I see."

Sanji had moved closer during the conversation. "Was the lock damaged?" he asked.

Mihawk shook his head. "No obvious signs of forced entry."

"Then whoever entered probably had a key."

"That's my assumption."

Zoro glanced between them. "Maybe somebody wanted to look at Rayleigh's stuff."

"Perhaps," Mihawk said. "But the room was specifically secured until the inventory could be completed. I'd prefer that the other beneficiaries respect that arrangement."

"Want me to talk to them?"

"That won't be necessary. I'll address the matter myself."

Zoro nodded. "Just figured you should know about Moria."

"I appreciate it." Mihawk set down his tea. "Since the property now belongs to you, I felt it appropriate to inform you of the disturbance. I'll let you know if anything turns out to be missing."

"Thanks."

Sanji glanced toward the windows. "Have there been other incidents?"

"Nothing comparable. Although Mrs. Buckingham mentioned that several small objects may have been moved during the past few days. We're checking those against the inventory."

Zoro remembered the empty spaces on the display tables. "Yeah, saw a few places where stuff had been picked up."

Mihawk nodded. "Quite possibly related."

The discussion continued for another few minutes, mostly concerning the inventory and the property's condition. Mihawk had apparently arranged for an appraiser to visit once the road reopened, and he promised to provide Zoro with copies of the maintenance records.

Eventually, Sanji's phone vibrated. He glanced at the screen. "Excuse me. I need to return a call."

Zoro nodded. "Sure."

Sanji slipped his phone into his pocket and smiled at him. "Don't wander off too far. I was enjoying the company."

Zoro grinned. "Can't promise anything."

"I'll take my chances."

He left the drawing room.

Mihawk watched him go, then turned back toward Zoro. "Was there anything else you wished to discuss?"

"Think that's it for now."

"Very well. I have some paperwork to attend to. You're welcome to continue exploring the property, although I'd recommend avoiding the more deteriorated sections until they've been inspected."

"Got it."

Mihawk excused himself and returned to his borrowed office.

Zoro stood in the drawing room for another moment, considering what to do next. He could go upstairs and read through the will again, but he'd had enough legal paperwork for one morning. The relatives were probably scattered throughout the house, and he had little interest in seeking any of them out.

Outside, the sky remained overcast, but the rain had stopped. He decided to get some air.

The rear terrace was deserted when Zoro stepped outside again. He'd retrieved his jacket from the entrance hall, although he left it unbuttoned over his shirt. The air was damp and cool, with occasional gusts carrying the smell of wet leaves from the gardens. Water dripped from the stone balustrade, and puddles dotted the broad terrace. Zoro stayed on the paved area, unwilling to ruin his boots in the soaked lawns.

He wandered along the edge, examining the garden walls and the lower paths. The property was impressive, but he couldn't imagine what he'd do with it. A place this size needed groundskeepers, cleaners, maintenance workers, and probably a full-time accountant just to keep track of the expenses. His dojo was enough responsibility.

"Mr. Roronoa."

Zoro turned. Crocodile stood near the terrace doors, wearing a dark overcoat over his suit. A cigar rested between his fingers, and the polished gold hook replacing his left hand caught the gray daylight as he adjusted his coat. "Mind if I join you?"

"Sure," Zoro said with a shrug.

Crocodile stepped outside and pulled the door closed behind him. "Quite a property, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"I've been familiar with the estate for many years. Rayleigh maintained it reasonably well, considering its age."

Zoro glanced toward the damaged gutters. "Got some work to do."

"Naturally. Buildings of this age require constant attention." Crocodile took a measured draw from his cigar. "I understand you're considering selling."

"Maybe."

"I'd be interested in purchasing it."

"Figured."

Crocodile smiled faintly. "I can make the process remarkably simple. No need to involve a dozen brokers or endure months of negotiations. I'd take the property as it stands, including any necessary repairs."

"How much?"

Crocodile named a figure.

Zoro kept his expression neutral. It was an enormous amount of money. More than he'd ever imagined having in his bank account. It was also considerably less than the values he'd seen mentioned in the estate documents yesterday. He'd spent enough years negotiating leases, insurance renewals, and equipment purchases to recognize an opening offer designed to benefit the buyer.

"Appreciate it," he said. "But I'm gonna wait for the appraisal."

"Of course.” Crocodile smiled benignly. “Though I suspect you'll find that maintaining the estate during a prolonged sale could become expensive."

"Probably."

"Then perhaps you'd prefer the certainty of an immediate transaction."

"Still gonna wait."

Crocodile studied him over the tip of his cigar. "You're a difficult man to persuade."

"Depends what you're selling."

A faint smile crossed Crocodile's face. "Very well. My offer remains open."

"Thanks."

Crocodile turned toward the gardens, apparently content to share the terrace for a few moments. "Rayleigh was stubborn about this property," he remarked. "Turned down several lucrative offers over the years."

"Why?" 

"Sentimentality, mostly. His family occupied the land for generations."

Zoro looked toward the mansion. "Guess he got tired of it."

"Perhaps." Crocodile's tone suggested he doubted that explanation. He finished his cigar and extinguished it in a small stone ashtray beside the door. "If you change your mind, you have my number."

"Yeah."

Crocodile nodded and returned inside.

Zoro remained on the terrace a while longer, looking across the wet gardens. Crocodile was at least up front about his interest, and seemed to take Zoro’s no at face value. He wondered how much more aggressive the others might become once they realized he was serious about selling.

Eventually, the damp air began working through his jacket, and he decided to go back inside. He crossed the drawing room, intending to find Sanji and see whether he'd finished his call. The blond had mentioned exploring more of the house, and Zoro wouldn't mind the company.

The corridor outside Mihawk's office was empty. As Zoro approached, the office door opened. Sanji stepped out. He paused when he saw Zoro, his expression briefly surprised before he smiled. "Zoro. Enjoying yourself?"

"Mostly."

"Good."

Zoro glanced at the empty office. "Meeting with Mihawk?"

"Just taking care of a little business."

"Hn."

"Did you manage to stay out of trouble while I was gone?" Sanji asked.

"Had a chat with Crocodile," Zoro said.

"Ah. About the estate?"

"Yeah. Wants to buy it."

"I imagine he does."

Zoro glanced toward the office again. Sanji seemed perfectly relaxed, waiting for him to speak.

"Thought Mihawk was working in there," Zoro said.

"He was earlier."

"Huh."

Sanji smiled. "Come on. I believe Mrs. Buckingham mentioned lunch would be ready shortly."

"Good. I'm starving."

"After that breakfast?"

"That was hours ago."

Sanji laughed and started down the corridor.

Zoro followed after a moment, glancing back toward the office. He'd seen Mihawk go inside earlier. Sanji had apparently gone in to speak with him, yet the attorney was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he'd gone out another door. Zoro wasn't particularly familiar with the layout of the house yet. Still, the whole thing was a little odd.

He caught up with Sanji at the end of the corridor. "What's for lunch?"

"I believe there's a selection of sandwiches and soup."

"Hope there's meat."

Sanji gave him an amused look. "With your appetite, I'd be surprised if there was any left by the time you're finished."

Zoro snorted.

They headed toward the dining room together, passing another window where rainwater continued dripping into a bucket. Zoro glanced at it. 

He was definitely selling the house.

Lunch turned out to be considerably better than the sandwiches and soup Sanji had mentioned. Mrs. Buckingham had arranged a buffet in the smaller breakfast room beside the kitchen, with platters of sliced roast beef, ham, cheeses, fresh bread, salads, and two enormous tureens of soup. There was even a selection of desserts, which Zoro considered excessive but didn’t stop him from having a few of the non-chocolate ones.

He helped himself to roast beef sandwiches, a bowl of potato soup, a piece of cheesecake, a wedge of lime pie, and a tiny carrot cupcake, then followed Sanji to a table overlooking the courtyard.

Only a few other guests had joined them. Lucci sat near the windows with Hattori perched on the back of an empty chair, while Moria occupied another table and appeared to be working through his third sandwich. Crocodile had taken his lunch elsewhere, and there was no sign of Doflamingo or Caesar. Zoro was perfectly happy with the arrangement.

Sanji had gotten himself a smaller plate, although he'd spent considerably longer examining the buffet. He'd asked Mrs. Buckingham several questions about the food, including whether the bread was baked on the premises and what herbs the cook had used in the soup. Now he was examining a slice of bread with obvious appreciation.

"You're really into food, huh?" Zoro asked.

Sanji looked up. "Very much."

"Could tell."

"The bread's excellent. They've got a proper kitchen here, too. I'd love to see it."

"Probably can. It's my kitchen now, right?"

Sanji laughed. "I suppose it is."

"Then I'll give you permission."

"How generous of you."

Zoro grinned and bit into his sandwich.

They enjoyed the rest of their lunch, occasionally commenting on the food and the other guests. Moria returned to the buffet for another helping, while Lucci spent most of the meal reading his newspaper, occasionally sharing scraps from his plate with Hattori.

Zoro finished his sandwiches and turned his attention to the three desserts he'd picked out earlier. Sanji watched with amusement as he worked his way through them, occasionally offering an opinion on which was best.

By the time they finished, Zoro was pleasantly full, and Sanji was still talking about the kitchen. Sanji got his wish to see the kitchen shortly afterward.

They'd returned their dishes to the sideboard when Mrs. Buckingham appeared to check on the remaining food. Sanji complimented the meal, then asked whether the cook might permit a brief look around the kitchen. 

The housekeeper seemed pleased by his interest. "Mrs. Cocolo is rather particular about visitors, but I don't imagine she'd object to a short tour. She's just finished overseeing the luncheon."

Zoro followed them through a swinging door into a room that was nearly the size of his entire dojo.

The kitchen had high ceilings, white tile walls, and long stainless-steel worktables. Two enormous ranges occupied one wall beneath a commercial ventilation hood, while another section contained ovens, warming drawers, and equipment Zoro couldn't identify. Copper pots hung from racks overhead, and a walk-in refrigerator stood beyond a pair of pantry doors. The room smelled of baked bread, roasted meat, and something sweet cooling on a tray near the windows.

Several members of the kitchen staff were washing dishes or putting away ingredients. An older woman with short, pale green hair stood beside one of the worktables, inspecting a tray of pastries. She looked up when Mrs. Buckingham introduced them.

"Ah, the new owner," she said, wiping her hands on her apron. "Hope you enjoyed your lunch."

"Yeah. It was great."

"Good. Eat plenty while you're here. We've got enough food to feed an army."

Sanji was already examining the ranges. "Are those dual-fuel?"

Cocolo brightened. "They are. Rayleigh had them installed about eight years ago. Expensive bastards, but worth every penny."

"Beautiful equipment."

"Still works perfectly, too."

Sanji approached the nearest range, keeping his hands to himself while examining the burners and controls. Cocolo joined him, and within minutes they were discussing oven temperatures, commercial mixers, and the merits of different cookware.

Zoro leaned against an unoccupied worktable and listened. Sanji knew a hell of a lot about cooking. He asked about the ventilation system, inspected the bread ovens, and seemed particularly impressed by the preparation space. When Cocolo showed him the pantry, he spent several minutes admiring the shelving and ingredient storage.

By the time they returned to the main kitchen, Zoro was thoroughly entertained. "Planning to propose to it?" he asked.

Sanji glanced over. "What?"

"The kitchen. You two seem pretty serious."

Cocolo burst out laughing.

Sanji looked momentarily rueful, then smiled. "Sorry. Cooking's a passion of mine. I tend to get carried away."

"Noticed."

"Can you blame me? Look at this place."

Zoro looked around. "Lots of stuff."

Sanji pressed a hand to his chest. "Your appreciation for fine equipment is overwhelming."

"Bet it makes good rice."

Cocolo laughed again. "Oh, it does, dear. That rice cooker over there can make enough for fifty people."

Zoro followed her gesture. "Huh. Might need one of those for my apartment."

Sanji shook his head, smiling.

They thanked Cocolo for the tour and headed back toward the corridor. Sanji glanced over his shoulder once more before the kitchen door swung shut.

"You ever think about being a chef?" Zoro asked.

"When I was younger, yeah."

"What happened?"

"Family business." Sanji tucked his hands into his trouser pockets as they walked. "My family's involved in security consulting. They've been at it for decades. I ended up joining the business instead."

"Wanted you to?" Zoro surmised.

"You could say that."

"Don't sound too happy about it."

Sanji gave him a sideways glance. "It was a rocky start. My father and I had different ideas about practically everything, and I spent a few years wondering whether I'd made an enormous mistake."

"What changed?"

"I got better at the work, found a position I actually enjoyed, and stopped letting my family dictate every decision I made." He smiled. "I'm happy where I am now."

"That's good."

"It is. And I still get to cook for myself whenever I want."

"Must have a pretty decent kitchen."

"Nothing approaching the one we just saw, unfortunately. But I've got everything I need." Sanji paused, then added, "And I enjoy cooking for other people, too. Especially someone who appreciates a good meal." 

Zoro glanced at him. Sanji's smile was unmistakably flirtatious. 

"Well, I eat plenty," Zoro said casually.

"I've noticed."

"Easy to please, too."

"I'll remember that."

Zoro grinned.

They continued down the corridor, passing through a section of the house devoted to the household staff. There was a small office, a supply cupboard, and several doors leading to rooms that apparently hadn't changed much since the mansion was built. One stood open, revealing a large laundry room. Zoro stopped to look inside. "Oh, hell."

Industrial washers and dryers lined one wall, with long folding tables occupying the middle of the room. Shelves held neatly arranged stacks of towels, sheets, pillowcases, and table linens. Several enormous wheeled baskets stood near the machines, one already piled high with bedding. 

An ironing station occupied the far corner, and a row of cabinets ran along the opposite wall. Most were ordinary storage cupboards, although one shorter cabinet had a metal hasp and padlock fitted to its doors. Cardboard boxes and assorted household supplies had been stacked nearby.

A young member of the staff was transferring sheets from a washer into a dryer. She glanced up, greeted them politely, and returned to her work.

Zoro looked around in disbelief. "I hate doing laundry as it is. Can't imagine doing it for this whole place."

Sanji examined the rows of folded linens. "It must take several people."

"Look at all those towels. And sheets. How many beds does this place have?"

"Quite a few."

"And those fancy napkins at dinner." Zoro shook his head. "What's wrong with paper towels?"

Sanji laughed. "I think cloth napkins are considered part of the experience."

"Experience of what? Giving somebody more laundry?"

"Elegance, perhaps."

"Paper towels work fine," Zoro said.

"Do you use them for everything?"

"Pretty much."

Sanji gave him an amused look. "You're a practical man."

"Less washing."

"Can't argue with that."

Zoro glanced toward one of the baskets, where several brightly colored pieces of clothing were mixed among the household linens. "Although I guess somebody's gotta wash the guests' stuff, too."

"Apparently."

"Hope they don't mix everyone's underwear together."

Sanji smiled. "Worried someone might make off with your favorite briefs?"

"More worried I'd end up with somebody else's."

"What color should they be looking for?" Sanji's expression was innocent. "Red, perhaps?"

Zoro's gaze dropped briefly toward Sanji's waistband before he caught himself. 

The blond noticed. His smile widened. "Or do you prefer boxers?"

Zoro snorted. "Wouldn't you like to know."

"Very much."

Zoro shook his head, laughing under his breath, and continued toward the corridor. Unfortunately, he now had a rather detailed mental picture of Sanji in red briefs. It wasn't helping his concentration.

They spent another half hour wandering through the ground floor, although Zoro was beginning to suspect they'd seen most of the rooms accessible to guests.

Sanji seemed to enjoy examining the architecture, particularly the older sections of the house. He pointed out differences in the stonework, the locations of former exterior walls, and several doors that had apparently been added during renovations.

Zoro mostly noticed the amount of work the place needed. A window near the back staircase had a cracked pane. Water stains marked the ceiling in one corridor, and several floorboards creaked badly beneath his boots. The mansion was impressive, but it had plenty of problems.

They passed through the main hall on their way toward the drawing room. Several pink and white feathers lay scattered near the coatroom entrance, apparently shed from Doflamingo's ridiculous coat. Mrs. Buckingham was speaking to a servant about cleaning them up. 

Farther along, Zoro spotted Buggy coming down the main staircase. The blue-haired man looked agitated, his jacket hanging open and his hair slightly disheveled. He stopped abruptly when he noticed Zoro and Sanji. "Oh. You two."

"Hey," Zoro said.

Buggy glanced back up the stairs. 

"Been looking for Mihawk?" Zoro asked.

"Why?" 

"Just asking."

"Well, don't. I've got business to attend to." Buggy hurried past them toward the library, nearly colliding with a servant carrying a tray. "Watch where you're going."

The servant apologized, although Buggy had been the one who'd walked into her path.

Zoro watched him disappear. "Friendly guy."

Sanji glanced toward the staircase, then back at Zoro. "He's been rather agitated since yesterday."

"Would be, too, if I had that nose."

Sanji laughed. "That's terrible."

"Didn't say it to his face."

Sanji shook his head, still smiling, and they continued toward the drawing room.

The doors were open, and several voices carried into the corridor. Most of the relatives had gathered in the drawing room, apparently because there wasn't much else to do while the road remained flooded.

It was reminiscent of the gathering the night before. Crocodile occupied an armchair beside the fireplace. Lucci sat near the windows with Hattori perched on his shoulder, while Caesar had claimed a portion of the sofa and was examining something on his phone. Doflamingo lounged in another chair, his pink feathered coat draped over the back. 

Moria stood beside one of the display cabinets, arguing with Buggy, who must've entered through another doorway while Zoro and Sanji were walking.

"I know what I saw," Moria insisted.

"And I'm telling you it wasn't there," Buggy snapped.

"You took it!"

"Took what?" Buggy said.

"The interlocking rings," Moria said.

"What are you talking about?"

"The little brass rings Rayleigh kept in the upstairs sitting room!"

Buggy threw up his hands. "Oh, for God's sake! Why would I want some stupid rings?"

"Because it's valuable."

"Everything in this dump's valuable."

Crocodile sighed. "Must we have this conversation again?"

Moria turned toward him. "Some of us actually care about the family's possessions."

"Then perhaps you should stop rummaging through them."

Moria looked offended.

Doflamingo laughed from his chair. "Fufufu. Still hunting treasure, Moria? I thought Rayleigh told you years ago that there wasn't anything hidden in the house."

"He wouldn't have told me if there was," Moria said.

"An excellent point. Perhaps you should tear up the floorboards."

"Shut up."

Zoro paused just inside the doorway. He'd walked into another family argument.

Sanji leaned toward him. "Shall we retreat?"

Zoro considered it, then he noticed the drinks laid out on the sideboard. "Nah. Could use a drink."

"Excellent idea."

They crossed toward the sideboard while the argument continued.

Several bottles had been arranged beside an assortment of glasses. There was whiskey, brandy, gin, and a dark amber liquor in a heavy crystal decanter with an ornate silver stopper. Zoro recognized it from the previous evening, when Crocodile had poured himself several drinks from it.

Sanji looked over the selection. "What would you prefer?"

"Whiskey's fine."

"Same as last night?"

"Yeah."

Sanji reached for the appropriate bottle, but Zoro looked again at the decanter sitting closer to him. "What's that one?"

Sanji glanced at it. "Looks like an aged brandy."

"Any good?"

"I haven't tried it."

Zoro picked up the decanter and examined the label attached to its neck. It bore the name of an expensive distillery and a date indicating it had been bottled decades earlier. "Fancy stuff."

"Very."

He poured himself a small measure, figuring he might as well sample something he'd never be able to afford under ordinary circumstances.

Sanji raised an eyebrow. "Feeling adventurous?"

"Free booze."

"Can't argue with that."

Zoro took a sip. The liquor was smooth, with a warm, slightly sweet taste that lingered pleasantly. He swallowed and considered it. "Not bad."

Sanji smiled and poured himself whiskey from the other bottle.

They moved toward an empty section of the sofa, although Zoro remained standing long enough to glance around the room.

Doflamingo had noticed him. The tall blond was watching from his chair, sunglasses pushed up into his hair, his gaze traveling openly over Zoro's body. Zoro only had one working eye, but even if he'd been completely blind, he'd have been able to tell Doflamingo wanted to get him into bed.

Too bad his hair was the wrong length of blond.

Zoro glanced toward Sanji, who was setting his glass on the table. Much better.

Behind them, Caesar had joined the argument. "Honestly, Moria, if Rayleigh wanted you to have the rings, he'd have left it to you."

"He might've forgotten," Moria said.

"Then perhaps you should've reminded him while he was alive."

Buggy snorted. "Good luck with that. Old bastard never listened to anybody."

Lucci finally lowered his newspaper. "Rayleigh was perfectly capable of making his own decisions."

"Clearly not," Caesar snapped. "Look at what happened with the estate."

"Oh, here we go," Crocodile muttered.

Caesar ignored him. "The property should've remained within the family. Instead, he gave it to someone he barely knew."

Zoro sighed and sat down.

Sanji took the place beside him. "Want to leave?" he asked quietly.

"Just got my drink."

"Fair enough."

Zoro raised the glass and took another sip.

Crocodile set down his glass. Zoro thought it might be vermouth, judging by the clear liquor inside. "If any of you had taken an interest in maintaining the estate while Rayleigh was alive, perhaps he would've been more inclined to leave it to you."

Doflamingo laughed. "Listen to you, Crocodile. You've been trying to buy the land for years."

"Because it's being wasted."

"Ah, yes. Another luxury development. How inspiring."

“Better than allowing it to deteriorate."

Moria made an offended noise. "This house has been standing for generations."

"And it'll continue standing until the roof collapses," Crocodile replied.

"Then repair the roof," Lucci said. "There's no reason to tear down the house because it needs maintenance."

"Easy to say when you aren't paying for it," Crocodile replied.

"Caesar could afford to maintain it. Rayleigh originally intended for him to have the place."

Caesar looked pleased. "Exactly."

Zoro glanced toward Sanji. "He's got a point about the roof."

Sanji covered a smile with his glass.

The conversation continued, moving from arguments over the estate to old family grievances that Zoro couldn't begin to follow. Someone accused Doflamingo of cheating during a business arrangement twenty years earlier. Buggy insisted Crocodile had deliberately ruined one of his investments. Moria brought up a missing collection of antique coins, which prompted Caesar to accuse him of stealing them himself.

Lucci occasionally interjected with a dry correction, usually making whichever relative he addressed angrier.

Zoro listened with decreasing interest. He'd grown up in foster homes where arguments were common enough, but these people had apparently been holding grudges against one another for decades.

He took another sip of brandy. The room seemed unusually warm. He loosened the collar of his shirt and shifted against the sofa.

Sanji glanced at him. "You all right?"

"Yeah."

Zoro took another drink, then set the glass on the table. Something about the liquor was bothering him. His mouth felt dry, and he'd developed a strange pressure behind his good eye. He blinked several times, trying to clear his vision.

Across the room, Buggy was gesturing wildly while Crocodile stared at him with open contempt. The movement seemed oddly distracting.

Zoro rubbed his forehead. "Maybe that brandy's stronger than I thought."

Sanji turned toward him. "What?"

"Feel a little weird."

Sanji set his glass down. "How weird?"

"Dizzy."

"How much did you drink?"

"Couple sips."

Sanji's expression changed. He leaned closer, studying Zoro's face. "Look at me a moment."

Zoro did.

Sanji's visible blue eye was fixed on him, his expression considerably more serious than it had been a moment earlier. "Are you nauseated?"

"Nah. Just..." Zoro swallowed. His tongue felt thick. "Everything's kind of moving."

Sanji glanced toward the glass on the table. "Don't drink any more of that."

"Wasn't planning to." Zoro tried to stand. His balance shifted unexpectedly, and he caught the arm of the sofa before he could stumble.

Sanji was on his feet immediately, one hand closing around Zoro's elbow. "Easy."

"Shit."

"Sit back down."

Zoro did, irritated by the sudden weakness in his legs. The room seemed brighter than it had a moment ago. Colors had become unusually vivid, and the patterned carpet was beginning to make his stomach turn.

Sanji crouched in front of him. "Zoro, listen to me. I think there's something in that drink."

"What?"

"I need you to stay seated." 

Zoro looked toward the sideboard, trying to remember how much he'd poured. "Only had a little."

"I know." Sanji glanced toward the door. "Mrs. Buckingham!"

The housekeeper appeared a moment later, responding to the urgency in his voice. "Sir?"

"Could you call for medical assistance? Zoro's having a reaction to something he drank. And please make sure nobody touches the decanter on the sideboard."

Mrs. Buckingham looked alarmed. "Certainly."

She hurried toward the hallway.

By now, the other guests had begun paying attention.

"What happened?" Crocodile demanded.

Sanji remained beside Zoro. "He's feeling unwell."

Caesar looked up from his phone. "What did he drink?"

"Brandy," Zoro managed.

Caesar's gaze immediately shifted toward the sideboard. "From that decanter?"

Zoro nodded. Caesar sat forward. "That's Crocodile's brandy!"

Crocodile's expression darkened. "What?"

"He was drinking from your decanter."

"So?"

"So perhaps you should explain what's in it."

Crocodile rose from his chair. "Are you accusing me of poisoning someone?"

"I'm merely pointing out that it's your liquor."

"Anyone in this house could've accessed it, you imbecile!"

Doflamingo began laughing. "Fufufu. Oh, this is getting interesting."

Sanji looked over his shoulder. "Would you all shut up for five minutes?"

His tone was firm enough that even Doflamingo stopped laughing. Zoro would've appreciated it more if the room would stop shifting every time he moved his head.

Sanji turned back toward him. "How're you feeling?"

"Like shit."

"Any trouble breathing?"

"No."

"Chest pain?"

"No."

"All right." Sanji kept a hand on Zoro's forearm, watching him carefully.

Zoro tried to focus on his face. The blond's features were still attractive, even if the edges had become annoyingly difficult to keep still.

"You're pretty," Zoro informed him.

Sanji blinked. Then his mouth twitched. "Thank you."

"Really pretty."

"I appreciate that, sweetheart. Let's concentrate on keeping you upright for the moment."

Zoro considered arguing, but the sofa was comfortable, and Sanji's hand on his arm felt good. He stayed where he was.

Mrs. Buckingham returned with Mihawk a few minutes later. Mihawk took in the situation, the untouched decanter, and the collection of relatives arguing among themselves. "What happened?"

Sanji explained what he'd observed, keeping his account limited to Zoro's symptoms and the drink. Mihawk listened without interrupting. "Has medical assistance been contacted?"

"Yes, sir," Mrs. Buckingham said. "The emergency dispatcher is aware that the access road is flooded. They're arranging for a clinician to speak with us directly."

Mihawk nodded. "Good."

Caesar immediately began explaining that Crocodile's decanter was responsible. Crocodile threatened to throw him through a window.

Zoro closed his eye. "Would everybody just shut the fuck up?"

Sanji gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. "I'm going to get you somewhere a little more comfortable," he said.

"Bed sounds good."

"Let's wait until we've spoken with the clinician."

Zoro sighed.

Sanji remained beside him, asking occasional questions and keeping him from standing whenever he decided he was perfectly capable of walking.

The room had become increasingly unpleasant, with everyone staring at him and arguing about whose fault it was. At least Sanji seemed to know what he was doing.

Zoro leaned back against the sofa, watching the blond speak quietly with Mihawk. He hadn't expected his first full day as a wealthy property owner to involve getting accidentally poisoned at a family gathering. Then again, he'd only met these people yesterday.

Maybe he should've stuck with the whiskey.

The clinician spoke with Mihawk first, then asked to speak directly with Zoro. By that point, Zoro had developed a headache, his mouth felt unpleasantly dry, and he was having trouble concentrating on anything for more than a few seconds. The room had stopped moving quite so much, which he appreciated, although the patterns in the carpet were still bothering him.

He answered questions about what he'd eaten and drunk, when the symptoms had started, whether he'd taken any medication, and whether he'd experienced anything similar before. Sanji remained beside him, supplying details whenever Zoro had trouble remembering them.

The clinician couldn't identify what he'd consumed over the telephone, but the symptoms suggested possible intoxication from an unknown substance. After consulting poison control, she advised close observation, fluids in small amounts, and avoiding alcohol or other sedating substances. An ambulance couldn't reach the manor while the crossing remained flooded, so she also went over the symptoms that would require emergency evacuation.

Fortunately, Zoro's condition began improving during the call. He became more alert, his breathing and pulse were normal, and he started to answer the clinician's questions himself. She agreed that he could rest under supervision, provided someone remained with him and they called back if anything changed.

Mihawk secured the decanter and Zoro's glass in his office, handling them as little as possible and making certain nobody else drank from the liquor. Crocodile was furious that someone had apparently tampered with his brandy, and even more furious that Caesar kept suggesting he was responsible simply because the decanter belonged to him. Zoro was getting pretty tired of hearing the accusation himself. 

Eventually, Sanji helped him upstairs. Zoro would've preferred making the trip himself, but his legs still felt unreliable, and the staircase seemed to have acquired several additional steps since breakfast. Sanji kept a hand at his elbow without making a production of it, and Zoro was grateful for the assistance by the time they reached his suite.

Once there, he drank some water, used the bathroom, and changed into more comfortable clothes. Sanji stayed nearby while he settled into bed, checking on him occasionally and reminding him to drink something.

Zoro remembered telling him he was being a mother hen. Sanji had laughed. After that, Zoro fell asleep.

When he woke, the room was considerably darker. Zoro blinked at the canopy overhead, trying to figure out what time it was. His headache had eased to a dull ache behind his good eye, and the strange dizziness that had accompanied the drink was gone. He felt much better.

He rolled onto his back, stretched, and discovered Sanji sitting in one of the bedroom armchairs. The blond had taken off his shoes and was reading something on his phone, one leg crossed over the other. His hair had been pulled back loosely, although several strands hung around his face. A glass of water stood on the table beside him, along with a small plate containing crackers.

Zoro watched him for a moment. He liked finding Sanji there. Quite a lot, actually.

It was also a little weird.

He was forty-one years old, had lived alone for most of his adult life, and had been taking care of himself long before he'd started growing gray hairs. Having somebody sit beside his bed while he slept was the sort of thing he associated with being seriously ill. Still, it was nice of the guy.

"Hey."

Sanji looked up immediately. "Hey, yourself. How're you feeling?"

"Better."

"Headache?"

"Little bit."

"Dizzy?"

Zoro turned his head from side to side, then sat up carefully. "Nah."

"Good." Sanji set his phone aside. "You've been asleep for a few hours."

"What time is it?"

"Just after six."

"Damn."

"Dinner's at seven."

Zoro rubbed his face. "Guess I slept through the afternoon."

"You needed the rest."

"Hn." He glanced at the empty glass on the bedside table. "You been sitting there the whole time?"

"Most of it. Mrs. Buckingham came up to check on you, and Mihawk stopped by earlier."

"Could've gone and done something else."

"I had a comfortable chair, my phone, and a perfectly good excuse to avoid the rest of the guests."

Zoro snorted. "Guess there's that."

"Besides, the clinician wanted someone to stay with you."

"Yeah, yeah."

Sanji smiled and got up, bringing him the glass of water. "Drink."

Zoro accepted the glass and drank about half of it. His mouth still felt dry, but the water helped. He considered the crackers and took one, discovering that he was hungry again, although the thought of anything particularly rich didn't appeal to him. "Anybody figure out what was in that stuff?"

"Not yet. Mihawk's keeping the decanter and your glass secured until they can be examined."

"Crocodile still pissed?"

"Very."

"Can't blame him."

"Neither can I."

Zoro ate another cracker. "Guy didn't seem like he was trying to poison me."

Sanji regarded him. "Why do you say that?"

"Didn't even know I was gonna drink his brandy. Hell, I didn't know I was gonna drink it."

"That's true."

"And he drinks the stuff himself."

"Apparently."

Zoro shrugged. "Probably somebody screwing around."

Sanji's expression remained thoughtful. "Whatever happened, I'd prefer it didn't happen again."

"Me, too. That sucked."

"I imagine it did."

Zoro finished the water and set the glass aside. "Thanks for sticking around."

"You're welcome." Sanji smiled, and Zoro felt that pleasant little tug of attraction again. He'd spent most of the afternoon unconscious with a handsome man sitting beside his bed. There were probably better ways to arrange that.

"Think I'm gonna get cleaned up," he said.

"Good idea. Just take your time."

"Got it."

Sanji collected the empty glass and plate. "I should probably change before dinner myself. I'll see you downstairs?"

"Yeah."

He paused near the bedroom door. "Zoro?"

"Hm?"

"I'm glad you're feeling better."

Zoro smiled. "Me, too."

Sanji returned the smile and left.

Zoro watched the door close, then swung his legs over the side of the bed. He was definitely feeling better, and the shower helped throw the last vestiges off. Zoro kept the water warm rather than hot, washed his hair, and spent a few minutes letting the spray work the stiffness out of his neck. By the time he finished, his headache had nearly disappeared.

He shaved the faint stubble he'd missed that morning and changed into clean trousers and a dark blue shirt. He was buttoning the cuffs when he caught sight of himself in the dressing-room mirror. His stomach had settled, although he'd probably lost a little color during the afternoon.

He turned sideways and considered his reflection. Then he snorted. He'd nearly been poisoned by somebody's booze, and he was still concerned about looking good for Sanji.

He combed his hair, checked his phone for messages from the dojo, and decided he was presentable enough.

At twenty minutes to seven, he left his suite. He'd barely closed the door when a familiar voice greeted him.

"Well, well. There you are, handsome." Doflamingo stood several yards down the corridor, leaning against the wall beside an antique table. He wore a black shirt open farther than necessary, pink feathered coat draped over his shoulders, and a pair of pale trousers, with his sunglasses perched on his head.

He straightened when Zoro turned toward him. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Heard you gave everyone quite a scare."

"Wasn't intentional."

"Fufufu. I should hope not." Doflamingo approached, looking Zoro over with undisguised interest. "Must've been an unpleasant afternoon."

"Wasn't great."

"Then perhaps I could improve your evening."

Zoro had a pretty good idea where this was going. "Got dinner in twenty minutes."

"After dinner, then." Doflamingo stopped in front of him, close enough that Zoro could smell his expensive cologne. "I've been thinking about you since yesterday.”

"Yeah, figured."

"Have you?"

"Hard to miss."

Doflamingo laughed. "Good. I do prefer being direct." 

His gaze traveled down Zoro's chest before returning to his face. "You've inherited an extraordinary property, Zoro. A man in your position ought to have somebody who knows how to enjoy it with him."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Perhaps I could come by your room later. We could have a drink, get to know each other properly."

Zoro shook his head. "Had enough to drink today."

"Then we'll find something else to do." Doflamingo reached toward Zoro's collar, apparently intending to straighten it.

Zoro caught his wrist before he could touch him. "Pass."

For a moment, Doflamingo looked surprised. Then he laughed. "Fufufu. Playing hard to get?"

"No. Just telling you I'm not interested." Zoro released his wrist.

Doflamingo's grin remained, although his expression had changed. "Come now. You haven't even given me a chance."

"Don't need to."

"You're being rather dismissive."

"Yeah, well. You asked."

Doflamingo studied him for several seconds. "You know, Zoro, you're in a very unusual position here. You've inherited something a great many people want, and you know practically nothing about the people surrounding you."

"Been getting that impression."

"Then perhaps you should be more careful about offending them."

Zoro raised an eyebrow. "That a threat?"

Doflamingo's smile widened. "Friendly advice. It would be unfortunate if your luck ran out before you had a chance to enjoy your inheritance."

Zoro stared flatly at him. He'd dealt with enough unpleasant people over the years to recognize somebody trying to intimidate him. Doflamingo was considerably taller than he was, and probably accustomed to getting his way through a combination of money, charm, and sheer persistence. Zoro wasn't particularly impressed. "Finished?"

Doflamingo's grin tightened. "For now."

"Good." Zoro stepped around him and continued toward the staircase.

Behind him, Doflamingo laughed again, although it sounded considerably less amused than before.

Zoro shook his head. What an asshole.

A pair of servants passed Zoro carrying fresh towels toward the guest wing, and he heard somebody moving furniture in one of the nearby rooms. The storm had left the house with plenty of work to do, and the staff were apparently trying to handle it while also looking after a collection of demanding guests.

Zoro reached the main staircase without getting lost this time. Halfway down, he spotted Buggy emerging from a room off the upper gallery.

The blue-haired man stopped abruptly when he noticed Zoro. "Hey. You're alive."

Zoro looked at him. "Apparently."

"Good. Great. That's good." Buggy glanced back toward the room he'd just left, then hurried toward the staircase. "Wasn't expecting you up and around so soon."

"Felt better."

"Excellent. Well, see you at dinner." He went down the stairs considerably faster than necessary.

Zoro watched him go. Weird guy.

He glanced toward the room Buggy had emerged from. Its door stood slightly ajar, revealing a sitting room with several covered pieces of furniture and a tall cabinet against the far wall. Maybe Buggy was another one interested in the antiques.

Zoro continued downstairs. He found Mrs. Buckingham near the entrance hall, supervising a servant who was replacing a damp runner along the corridor. She looked relieved when she saw him. "Mr. Roronoa. I'm pleased to see you're feeling better."

"Yeah. Much better. Thanks for helping earlier."

"You're very welcome, sir. It was rather concerning."

"Sorry about the trouble."

"Nonsense. Your health is considerably more important than a little disruption to the household." She gave him a brief smile. "Will you be joining us for dinner?"

"Planning to," he said.

"Very good. Mrs. Cocolo has prepared a lighter selection as well, in case your appetite hasn't fully returned."

"Appreciate it."

"Of course."

Zoro glanced toward the corridor leading to the drawing room. "Seen Sanji around?"

"Mr. Vinsmoke? I believe he went upstairs to change some time ago."

"Hn. Thanks."

Mrs. Buckingham returned to her work, and Zoro continued through the house. He passed the library, where Moria was standing on a small footstool, examining something on the top shelf of a display cabinet.

"Find anything?" Zoro asked from the doorway.

Moria nearly lost his balance. "Gyah. Don't sneak up on people!"

"Wasn't sneaking."

Moria climbed down, adjusting his coat. "Just looking at Rayleigh's collection."

"Thought you already got your antiques."

"Those were specific bequests. There's still plenty here that hasn't been accounted for."

"Sure Mihawk's got somebody working on it."

"He's got people counting everything. Doesn't mean they know what they're looking at."

Zoro shrugged. "Guess so."

Moria looked past him toward the corridor. "You going to dinner?"

"In a bit."

"Good. I'm starving."

Zoro glanced at the cabinet again. "Find those rings yet?"

Moria's expression darkened. "No. And I've looked everywhere."

"Maybe somebody took it home."

"Somebody definitely took it."

"Too bad."

He left Moria to his search.

By the time he reached the drawing room, several guests had already assembled, but Sanji wasn't among them.

Crocodile stood beside the fireplace, examining his phone. Lucci was standing near one of the bookshelves, examining a framed photograph with Hattori perched on his shoulder, while Caesar hovered beside the drinks table, helping himself to a glass of wine and keeping his distance from Crocodile. 

Zoro looked around. No Sanji. He checked the time. Still ten minutes until dinner. Maybe the blond was running late.

Zoro crossed to the sideboard, considered the selection of liquor, and poured himself a glass of water. Crocodile glanced over. "Sticking to water?"

"After this afternoon? Yeah."

"Wise." The older man put his phone away. "I trust you're recovering."

"Pretty much."

"Good. I assure you, I've never had any difficulty with that particular brandy."

"Didn't figure you had."

Crocodile's expression soured. "Caesar seems determined to imply otherwise."

"Guy seems determined to complain about everything."

A faint smile crossed Crocodile's face. "An accurate assessment."

Zoro drank some water and glanced toward the doorway again. Still no Sanji. He wondered what the blond was doing.

Before he could give it much thought, Mrs. Buckingham appeared to announce dinner. 

The evening meal was less elaborate than the previous night's, although Zoro suspected that was because Mrs. Cocolo had been informed about his condition.

The table was set with roasted chicken, vegetables, rice, potatoes, and several lighter dishes. Soup and bread were available for anyone who wanted them, and a selection of desserts waited on a sideboard.

Zoro took a seat near the middle of the table.

Sanji arrived a few minutes later. He'd changed into dark trousers and a cream-colored shirt, with his hair pulled back loosely at the nape of his neck. He looked freshly showered, and Zoro noticed that he'd left the top few buttons of his shirt undone. 

Very nice.

Sanji spotted him and smiled. "Feeling up to dinner?"

"Yeah."

"Good." He took the empty chair beside Zoro.

"Was wondering where you went," Zoro said.

"Had a few things to take care of."

"Anything interesting?"

"Unfortunately, no. A couple of calls and some emails."

"Hn."

Sanji glanced at his glass. "Water?"

"Doctor's orders."

"Excellent choice."

Zoro snorted. "Don't think I'm touching booze again this weekend."

"I'd be perfectly happy with that."

The other guests arrived. Mihawk went to his usual seat. Buggy came in complaining that someone had moved his belongings. Moria followed shortly afterward, still muttering about missing antiques. Caesar took a seat near the far end, while Crocodile settled opposite him with an expression that suggested he would've preferred almost any other company.

Lucci entered with Hattori on his shoulder, but remained only long enough to collect a small plate of food.

"You're not joining us?" Mihawk asked.

"I've got a conference call to attend. I'll eat upstairs."

"Very well."

Lucci nodded and departed, the pigeon still perched on his shoulder.

Zoro watched him go. He couldn't imagine trying to conduct a business meeting with a bird sitting on him.

Doflamingo arrived last. He surveyed the table, spotted Zoro sitting beside Sanji, and gave him a distinctly unpleasant look.

Zoro returned it without much interest.

Doflamingo took a seat near Crocodile, poured himself some wine, and spent the next several minutes ignoring him. Fine by Zoro.

Dinner proceeded reasonably well, at least compared to the previous evening. Most of the conversation concerned the flooded road, canceled appointments, and the inconvenience of being stuck at the estate. Buggy complained that he'd miss an important meeting on Monday if the water didn't recede. Crocodile informed him that nobody cared. Moria asked whether the staff had found any additional damage upstairs. Mrs. Buckingham explained that several windows needed attention, although the worst of the leaks had been contained.

Doflamingo contributed occasional remarks, mostly at somebody else's expense. He also continued glaring at Zoro whenever their eyes met. After about twenty minutes, he pushed back his chair. "Well, this has been delightful. I think I'll find something more entertaining to do."

"Please do," Crocodile said.

Doflamingo laughed, rose, and left the dining room.

Sanji watched him go, then he turned toward Zoro. "What was that about?"

"What?"

"The way he was looking at you."

Zoro cut another piece of chicken. "Ran into him upstairs. Made another pass at me."

Sanji set down his fork. "Did he?"

"Yeah. Told him I wasn't interested."

"And?"

"Didn't take it well."

Sanji's expression became more serious. "What happened?"

"Nothing much. Got pissy. Started talking about how I oughta be careful offending people."

Sanji frowned. "He said that?"

"More or less."

"What exactly did he say?"

Zoro considered it. "Something about my luck running out before I got to enjoy the inheritance."

Sanji's gaze shifted briefly toward the doorway.

Crocodile, who'd been listening from across the table, gave a derisive snort. "Doflamingo doesn't like being told no."

"Yeah, noticed," Zoro said.

"He's accustomed to getting whatever he wants. Particularly when he decides someone interests him."

"Well, he can get used to disappointment."

Crocodile smiled faintly and returned to his meal.

Sanji remained thoughtful for another moment. "Did he touch you?"

"Reached for my shirt. Stopped him."

"Good."

Zoro glanced at him. "Don't worry. I can handle a guy making a pass at me."

"I know you can." Sanji picked up his fork again, although Zoro noticed him glance toward the doorway once more.

Zoro returned his attention to dinner. He'd eaten about half his chicken and some rice before deciding he'd had enough. His appetite had improved since the afternoon, but he wasn't ready for another enormous meal.

Sanji noticed when he set down his fork. "Finished already?"

"Think so."

"Still feeling unwell?"

"Nah. Just taking it easy." He patted his stomach. "Post-bad-drink diet."

Sanji's gaze dropped briefly to his middle. Zoro noticed. "What?"

"Nothing."

"You're looking."

"I am."

"Something wrong with it?"

Sanji smiled. "Absolutely nothing. I happen to like a man who's comfortable enough to enjoy his food."

Zoro raised an eyebrow. "Even if he's got a little belly?"

"Especially then." Sanji's smile became a touch more suggestive. "Give me a grown man who's lived a little over some twenty-year-old gym bro any day."

Zoro laughed. "That right?"

"Very much so."

Zoor grinned. "Good to know."

Sanji glanced at Zoro's hand, still resting on his stomach. "Though I admit, I'm a little jealous."

"Of what?"

"Your hand."

Zoro stared at him for a moment, then he laughed. "You're terrible."

"I've been told." Sanji looked entirely pleased with himself.

Zoro shook his head, smiling as he picked up his water. He liked flirting with Sanji. The man was good at it, and he seemed perfectly comfortable letting Zoro know he was interested without making him feel cornered. Quite a contrast to Doflamingo.

Dinner broke up gradually. Crocodile left to make another telephone call, and Caesar excused himself shortly afterward. Buggy and Moria resumed arguing about a missing clock until Mihawk asked them to take the discussion elsewhere. Mrs. Buckingham began directing the staff as the last plates were cleared.

Zoro was considering whether to head upstairs when Sanji leaned toward him. "Feel like a game of billiards?"

Zoro looked over. "There's a pool table?"

"In the games room. Saw it earlier."

"Huh. Sure."

"Excellent." Sanji stood and offered him a hand.

Zoro looked at it, amused, then accepted. He hardly needed help getting out of a chair, but Sanji's hand felt good in his.

The blond held on a moment longer than necessary before releasing him. Zoro smiled.

They left the dining room together.

The games room occupied a corner of the ground floor near the library. It was a large, comfortable space with dark wood paneling, leather chairs, several card tables, and a full-sized billiards table beneath a row of hanging lamps. A dartboard occupied one wall, while cabinets along another held board games, playing cards, and assorted equipment. There was also a smaller nine-ball table near the windows.

Zoro went straight toward it. "Now we're talking."

Sanji laughed. "Prefer this to billiards?"

"Yeah. Used to play a lot."

"Then I'm probably in trouble."

"Depends how good you are."

"Fairly competent."

"We'll see."

They found the balls and cues in a nearby cabinet, and Zoro racked the table while Sanji selected a cue. A sideboard held several bottles of liquor and a small refrigerator stocked with water and soft drinks. Sanji offered him something, and Zoro accepted a bottle of water. Sanji took one for himself.

"Staying sober with me?" Zoro asked.

"Seems only fair."

Zoro smiled. "You're a good sport."

"I have my moments."

Sanji broke first. He sank one ball and left himself a reasonable position for the next shot, although he missed by a narrow margin. Zoro stepped up, examined the table, and sank the next two in succession.

Sanji watched with interest. "You weren't exaggerating."

"About what?"

"Playing a lot."

"Spent plenty of time playing pool in bars when I was younger." Zoro lined up another shot and missed. "Doesn't mean I'm any good."

Sanji laughed and took his turn.

They played several games, taking their time and talking between shots. Sanji turned out to be a decent player, although Zoro had the advantage of considerably more experience. The blond compensated with an occasional lucky shot and a willingness to distract Zoro whenever he bent over the table.

After the third time Sanji commented on his technique, Zoro straightened and looked at him. "You trying to put me off?"

"Is it working?"

"Little bit."

Sanji smiled. "Then perhaps I should continue."

"Cheater."

"I prefer resourceful."

Zoro laughed and returned to the game. 

At one point, Sanji leaned over the table to line up a difficult shot, giving Zoro an excellent view of the way his trousers fit. 

Sanji sank the ball, straightened, and caught him looking. "Enjoying the game?"

"Definitely."

Sanji's smile widened.

They played until a little after nine, when Zoro finally won their fourth game by sinking the nine ball into a corner pocket.

Sanji set his cue aside. "Well played."

"Thanks."

"I demand a rematch sometime."

"Anytime."

Sanji regarded him. "I'll hold you to that."

"Good."

They returned the equipment to the cabinet, switched off the lights over the table, and headed toward the hall.

The mansion had become quieter as the evening progressed. Most of the guests had retired to their rooms or found somewhere else to occupy themselves, and the staff had finished clearing dinner. Zoro was feeling considerably better than he had that afternoon, although he was beginning to tire.

Sanji walked beside him toward the main staircase. "Ready to call it a night?" 

"Probably."

"Long day."

"Yeah."

They reached the bottom of the stairs. Zoro stopped. Sanji turned toward him. "Something wrong?"

"Nah." Zoro glanced up the staircase, then back at Sanji. He'd been thinking about this for most of the evening. Sanji was attractive, funny, and clearly interested. Zoro was interested, too. They'd spent a good portion of the past two days together, and he'd enjoyed pretty much every minute of it. He also hadn't brought anybody home in quite a while.

Running the dojo took up most of his time, and his last relationship had ended more than two years earlier. He'd dated occasionally since then, but nothing particularly serious had come of it. He was a little out of practice. Which was a stupid thing to be nervous about at forty-one.

He looked at Sanji. "Want to come upstairs?"

Sanji's expression softened. "To your room?"

"Yeah."

The blond smiled. "I'd like that."

"Good."

They started up the stairs together. Zoro was suddenly very aware of the fact that he was inviting a man he'd known for barely two days into his bedroom. Then again, they were both adults. He could handle this.

The second-floor gallery was deserted. Wall lamps illuminated the corridor, and the thick carpeting muffled their footsteps. Beyond the tall windows, the grounds were dark except for a few exterior lights around the courtyard and gardens.

Sanji walked beside Zoro, occasionally glancing at the portraits and antique furnishings they passed. "You know," he said, "I still haven't figured out which wing my room is in."

"Mine's this way."

"Are you certain?"

"Pretty sure."

Sanji laughed. "Reassuring."

Zoro grinned.

They rounded a corner and passed a narrow table beneath an old painting. A few loose feathers had collected near the baseboard. Zoro spotted a pink one on the carpet. "Guy's molting."

Sanji glanced down. "Doflamingo?"

"Who else?"

Sanji laughed. "I suppose the staff will be finding those for weeks."

"Should charge him for cleaning."

"An excellent idea."

They continued down the corridor toward Zoro's suite, passing the portraits and antique tables he'd become familiar with over the past two days. Zoro found the correct door without taking a wrong turn this time.

"Getting better at this," Sanji remarked.

"Only took me a day."

"Impressive."

Zoro snorted and unlocked his door. He switched on the lights in the sitting room, then stepped aside to let Sanji enter. Zoro set his phone on the table and glanced toward the balcony doors. The curtains had been left partially open, revealing the dark gardens beyond. "Hey. Haven't been out there yet."

Sanji followed his gaze. "The balcony?"

"Yeah. Want to have a look?"

"Sure."

Zoro wasn't in any particular hurry to move things into the bedroom. Another few minutes of conversation sounded pretty good, particularly now that they had some privacy.

He crossed the sitting room and opened the glass doors. The balcony extended several feet beyond the exterior wall, with enough space for a small table and two chairs. A stone balustrade ran along its outer edge, and a substantial overhang sheltered most of the paving from the weather. The floor was still damp near the railing, and water dripped occasionally from the edge of the roof. 

The air had cooled considerably since afternoon. Sanji joined him on the balcony, pulling the door mostly closed behind them. "Beautiful view."

"Yeah." From this height, Zoro could see the broad rear terrace below, the stone steps leading into the gardens, and several fountains illuminated from beneath. The lower paths disappeared into darkness farther down the slope. There was a considerable drop to the paving below.

Zoro walked toward the balustrade and rested his forearms on its broad stone top, looking across the grounds. "Could almost forget what a pain in the ass this place has been."

Sanji laughed. "Almost?"

"Give it another day."

"I'll try to make tomorrow more enjoyable."

"Doing pretty good so far."

Sanji smiled and joined him at the railing. For a while, they stood together, enjoying the cool air. Sanji leaned beside him, close enough that their shoulders touched occasionally.

Zoro glanced at him. The blond looked particularly good in the light from the sitting room, his long hair falling over one shoulder. Zoro wondered whether he should kiss him. He'd been thinking about it all evening.

Sanji turned his head. "What?"

"Nothing."

"You're looking at me."

"Yeah."

"Any particular reason?"

Zoro considered him. "You're pretty."

Sanji laughed softly. "So you've mentioned."

"Still true."

"Thank you."

Zoro smiled and turned toward him a little more. Sanji did the same.

Sanji reached out and brushed his fingertips lightly against Zoro's hand where it rested on the railing. Zoro looked down, then turned his hand and caught them.

"Zoro?"

"Hm?"

"May I kiss you?"

Zoro grinned. "Was wondering the same thing."

Sanji laughed, stepped closer, and leaned in. Zoro met him halfway.

The kiss was pleasant, warm, and unhurried. Sanji's beard brushed against his chin, and his hand settled lightly at Zoro's waist. Zoro rested his free hand against Sanji's shoulder, enjoying the feel of him beneath his fingers.

When they parted, Sanji smiled. "Well, that was nice."

"Very." Zoro leaned in again. Sanji met him with another kiss, this one a little longer. Zoro was thoroughly enjoying himself.

He shifted closer, letting his hand slide from Sanji's shoulder to the back of his neck. Sanji responded by drawing him nearer, his other hand settling at Zoro's hip.

Zoro stepped sideways to get more comfortable, turning so that his back was partly toward the railing. He leaned, bracing against the stone. Something shifted beneath him.

He barely had time to register the movement before the section of balustrade gave way.

Zoro's balance went with it. "Shit!"

He stumbled backward, his heel sliding across the damp paving. For an instant, he was falling toward the open space where the railing had been. Then Sanji grabbed him. One arm caught Zoro around the waist while the other seized the back of his shirt. Sanji hauled him forward with enough force to send them both sprawling across the balcony.

The broken section of balustrade crashed onto the terrace below.

Zoro landed hard on his side, Sanji half beneath him, and lay there for a moment trying to figure out what the hell had happened. "Fuck!"

Sanji's arms were still around him. "Zoro! Are you hurt?"

"Don't think so."

"Can you move?"

"Yeah."

Sanji loosened his hold enough for Zoro to roll onto his back. They remained on the damp paving for several seconds, catching their breath.

Zoro stared up at the underside of the balcony's overhang. Holy shit. He'd almost gone over.

Sanji pushed himself upright beside him. "Are you sure you're all right?"

Zoro sat up carefully. "Yeah. Think so."

His hip hurt where he'd landed, and his shirt had torn slightly at the shoulder, but nothing seemed seriously injured. He looked toward the gap in the balustrade. A section several feet wide was missing. Beyond it, he could see the illuminated paving of the lower terrace. "Holy shit."

Sanji followed his gaze. "That could've killed you."

"No kidding." Zoro rubbed his shoulder. "Good catch."

Sanji looked at him, his expression still serious. "You're welcome."

Zoro managed a weak laugh. "Guess I owe you one."

Sanji glanced toward the broken railing, then got to his feet and offered Zoro a hand. "Come on. Let's get inside."

Zoro accepted his help. His heart was still hammering from the near fall, although his legs supported him without any trouble. Sanji kept a hand at his back as they returned to the sitting room.

Zoro closed the balcony doors behind them, then looked through the glass. The missing section was impossible to overlook. "That thing must've been rotten."

"Perhaps." Sanji's tone had changed.

Zoro glanced at him. "What?"

"I'd like someone to examine it."

"Yeah. Good idea."

Sanji took out his phone. "I'm going to call Mihawk."

Zoro sat on the sofa while Sanji made the call, rubbing his sore shoulder and trying to decide whether he'd bruised anything besides his hip.

The blond explained that the railing on Zoro's private balcony had collapsed and that Zoro had nearly fallen. He asked Mihawk to arrange for someone to secure the balcony and examine the damage.

Zoro listened to the conversation, still having trouble believing what had happened.

Sanji ended the call. "Mihawk said to keep the balcony locked until it can be inspected."

"Okay."

Sanji put his phone away and came over. "How's your shoulder?"

"Sore."

"Anything else?"

"Hip's gonna bruise."

"May I have a look?"

Zoro glanced up at him. "At my hip?"

"If you'd rather I didn't, that's fine."

Zoro grinned. "Was planning on letting you see a lot more than that tonight."

Sanji laughed, although he still looked concerned. "Let's make certain you haven't hurt yourself first."

"All right."

Zoro stood, then winced as he shifted his weight onto his left leg. Sanji noticed immediately. "Sit back down."

"It's a bruise."

"Then humor me."

Zoro snorted and sat. He'd invited Sanji up here hoping to get laid, and instead he'd nearly fallen to his death. The man had now saved his ass twice in one day.

At least he was still interested.

Sanji knelt in front of him, carefully examining the torn shoulder of his shirt before looking up. “Still want some company?"

Zoro smiled. "Yeah. Definitely."

"Good." Sanji leaned forward and kissed him. 

Zoro returned it, reaching up to rest a hand against the blond's cheek. For a few moments, he could forget about the railing, the relatives, and the damned mansion. Then he shifted his hip and winced.

Sanji pulled back. "Bed?"

Zoro laughed. "Thought you'd never ask."

Sanji smiled and helped him up.

As they headed into the bedroom, Zoro glanced once more toward the balcony doors. He'd spent most of the afternoon recovering from whatever had been in that brandy, and now he'd nearly fallen off his own balcony.

Two near-death experiences in one day. He'd only come here to hear an old man's will, and somehow he'd ended up with a mansion, a houseful of hostile relatives, and the worst luck he'd had in years. This sucked.

At least Sanji was making the weekend worthwhile.

Zoro woke to the unfamiliar sensation of somebody else's leg draped over his. For a moment, he lay there enjoying the warmth and trying to remember why his hip hurt. Then he turned his head and found Sanji asleep beside him, his long blond hair spread across the pillow in a spectacular tangle.

Oh, right.

Zoro smiled. His shoulder was sore from the fall, his hip had developed a decent bruise, and another part of him was pleasantly sore for entirely different reasons. They'd taken it easy last night, considering he'd spent part of the afternoon recovering from whatever somebody had put in the brandy, followed by nearly falling to his death. Still, they'd managed to enjoy themselves. Quite a lot, actually.

Sanji had been prepared, too. He'd retrieved condoms and lubricant from his overnight bag in the adjoining room, explaining that he traveled frequently and liked to keep a few things on hand. Zoro had approved of that sort of planning. The evidence remained on the bedside table, along with two empty water glasses and the torn condom wrappers they'd neglected to throw away. He'd have to clean that up before Mrs. Buckingham sent somebody in.

Sanji slept on his side facing him, one arm tucked beneath his pillow and the other resting across Zoro's waist. His hair had come completely loose from its tie during the night. It looked soft, even tangled, and Zoro itched to touch it. 

He reached over and carefully worked his fingers through a few strands. Sanji made a sleepy noise. The blond opened his visible eye, blinked at him, and smiled slowly. "There's a face I don't mind waking up to."

Zoro grinned. "Morning."

"Morning." Sanji shifted closer, his hand sliding along Zoro's side beneath the sheet. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Very." Sanji's gaze traveled over his face. "How're you feeling?"

"Good."

"Shoulder?"

"Fine."

"Hip?"

"Bruised."

Sanji moved his hand lower, stopping just above the sore spot. "Sorry about that."

"You're the one who kept me from falling off a balcony."

"And I'd very much like to avoid doing it again."

"Good plan."

Sanji smiled and leaned in for a kiss.

Zoro met him, then pulled back. "Morning breath."

"I've survived worse."

"Yeah?"

"Considerably."

Zoro laughed, and Sanji kissed him again.

A few minutes later, Zoro was beginning to think they might spend the entire morning in bed. He certainly wouldn't object. Sanji shifted against him, and Zoro became aware that neither of them was having any difficulty getting interested again. He raised an eyebrow. "Morning wood?"

Sanji laughed against his cheek. "Yours or mine?"

"Both, apparently." Zoro grinned and pulled him closer.

They kissed for a while, Sanji's fingers finding their way into Zoro's short hair while Zoro finally got both hands into the blond's. Sanji seemed to enjoy that, particularly when Zoro scratched lightly at the back of his neck.

Eventually, Sanji drew back enough to look at him. "Want to take care of our morning problems?"

"Definitely."

Zoro reached toward the bedside table. Breakfast could wait a little longer.

By the time they finally got out of bed, Zoro was hungry enough to consider eating the crackers left from yesterday.

Sanji collected the wrappers and tidied the bedside table while Zoro went to start the shower. They joined each other beneath the spray, although Zoro discovered that having a gorgeous naked man within arm's reach made getting washed considerably less efficient. Sanji seemed to have the same problem. Eventually, they managed it.

Zoro dried himself off and watched Sanji struggle with his hair in front of the bathroom mirror. "Need a brush?"

"Desperately."

"Think there's one in the drawer."

Sanji found it and began working through the tangles.

Zoro leaned against the counter, enjoying the view. "You always take this long?"

"With my hair? Usually longer."

"Ever think about cutting it?"

Sanji looked at him through the mirror. "Do you want me to?"

"Hell, no."

Sanji laughed. "Wasn’t planning on cutting it anyway.”

Once they'd finished in the bathroom, Sanji gathered his things and headed toward the connecting door in Zoro's dressing room. "I should put on some clean clothes before breakfast."

Zoro glanced at the door. "So that's your room?"

"The adjoining one, yes."

"Huh. Convenient."

"Very." Sanji smiled. "I'll meet you in the corridor?"

"Sure."

Sanji opened the connecting door, gave Zoro another kiss, and disappeared into his own room.

Zoro stood there for a moment, looking at the door. Well, that explained why the blond had been able to retrieve his overnight bag so easily last night. He finished dressing, pulled on a fresh shirt, and checked his phone. It was a little after nine, later than he normally slept, but he'd certainly enjoyed the reason.

His instructor had sent another message from the dojo. The vending machine had apparently survived its attempted repairs, although it now dispensed two bags of chips whenever someone selected the barbecue flavor. Zoro told him, again, to unplug the damn thing until he got home.

He pocketed his phone just as someone knocked on the outer door. Sanji was waiting in the corridor, looking considerably more respectable than he'd looked twenty minutes earlier. He wore dark trousers and a soft green shirt, his hair brushed and tied loosely behind his head. "Ready?"

"Starving."

"I suspected as much."

They headed toward the main staircase together. Zoro was beginning to think he might actually learn his way around the mansion before leaving.

They'd nearly reached the entrance hall when Mihawk appeared from the corridor leading to his office. The attorney glanced toward the two of them, his expression giving away very little. "Zoro. A moment, please. I'd like to discuss several matters before you join the others for breakfast."

"Something wrong?" Zoro said.

"There have been further disturbances in the house. And I've received some information concerning yesterday's incident."

Zoro glanced at Sanji. "About the brandy?"

"Yes."

"Well, that's good."

Mihawk gestured toward his office. "If you'll come with me."

They followed him into the office. Several additional folders had been arranged on the desk. The curtains were open, admitting gray morning light, and a small fire burned in the grate. Mihawk closed the door once they'd entered. "Please, sit."

Zoro took one of the leather chairs. Sanji remained standing near the bookshelves until Mihawk indicated that he should sit as well.

"First," Mihawk began, "someone entered another restricted room yesterday evening. Mrs. Buckingham discovered the disturbance this morning."

Zoro frowned. "Another one?"

"Yes. A sitting room in the west wing. Several drawers and cabinets had been opened, and some of the contents had been moved."

"Anything stolen?"

"Nothing we're able to establish yet. The inventory is incomplete, and Rayleigh kept a considerable number of personal possessions throughout the house."

Zoro thought of Moria rummaging through cabinets, Buggy coming down from an unfamiliar room, and the various empty spaces he'd noticed on display tables. "Still think it could be Moria."

"He's certainly taken an interest in the furnishings," Mihawk agreed. "However, the incidents appear to involve rooms that were secured or otherwise closed to guests."

"Maybe he's got a key."

"Possibly."

"Could ask him."

"I intend to speak with everyone about respecting the restricted areas. Mrs. Buckingham is also checking the household keys."

Zoro leaned back. "Guy's got expensive taste, from what I've seen."

"He isn't the only one."

"Yeah. Guess not."

Mihawk opened a folder. "Now, regarding the decanter."

Sanji shifted in his chair. "Perhaps I should be the one to explain what I learned yesterday."

Zoro looked at him. "You found something?"

"A few things." Sanji folded his hands loosely. "After you went upstairs to rest, I spoke with Mrs. Buckingham about the drinks service. I wanted to establish who'd had access to the decanter before you drank from it."

Zoro remembered Sanji arriving late for dinner. "That's what you were doing yesterday?"

"Part of it."

"Huh."

Sanji continued. "The decanter belonged to Crocodile, but it had been placed on the drinks table with the other bottles. Several people had access to it throughout the afternoon."

"Yeah. Including me."

"Precisely. One of the servants remembered seeing Caesar at the sideboard earlier, when the drawing room was almost empty. He had something in his hand and was standing near Crocodile's decanter."

Zoro frowned. “Doing what?"

"She wasn't certain. She'd gone in to collect some glasses and saw him putting something away as she entered. At the time, she had no reason to think anything of it."

"Caesar was the one yelling about Crocodile poisoning me."

"He was."

Zoro thought back to the drawing room. Caesar had been awfully quick to blame Crocodile, and he'd known exactly which decanter Zoro had drunk from. "Huh. Guess that makes more sense now." 

Mihawk regarded Zoro over the desk. "There's sufficient reason to question him directly. I'd prefer to do so before confronting the entire household."

"Why didn't you tell me yesterday?"

"You were recovering from an unknown substance, and we had no confirmation that anyone had deliberately tampered with the drink," Mihawk replied. "I wasn't inclined to involve you in an argument with Caesar while you were unwell."

Zoro supposed that was reasonable.

Sanji glanced toward Mihawk. "Would you like me to fetch him?"

"Please."

Sanji rose. "I'll be back shortly." 

He left the office.

Zoro watched the door close, then turned toward Mihawk. "He's been helping you with this?"

"Yes."

"Since yesterday?"

"Among other things."

Zoro nodded slowly. "Thought I saw him coming out of your office yesterday afternoon."

"You probably did. We had a meeting."

"Huh. Funny thing was, I looked inside afterward and didn't see you."

Mihawk gestured toward a second door partly concealed behind a tall bookcase near the fireplace. "That door leads to the back hall. I'd gone to speak with Mrs. Buckingham about the damage to the house."

Zoro glanced toward it. "Oh."

"The office was originally part of a larger suite. Both doors remain in use."

"Didn't know there was another one."

"Most guests don't."

Zoro nodded. That explained it, then. He'd thought it strange to see Sanji coming out of an apparently empty office. With a second entrance, there wasn't much mystery about it. Still, he was curious. "How come Sanji's helping you?"

Mihawk regarded him for a moment. "He's familiar with handling sensitive matters, and I value his discretion. He was particularly concerned about what happened to you yesterday."

"Yeah. He's been pretty good about that."

"Indeed."

Zoro glanced toward the door. He liked that Sanji had taken the trouble to ask questions about the brandy, even if the blond hadn't mentioned it last night. Considering the circumstances, Zoro would've preferred knowing somebody was taking the problem seriously.

He looked back at Mihawk. "So you think Caesar did it?"

"I think Caesar has some explaining to do."

"Good luck with that."

Mihawk's mouth curved faintly. "Thank you."

It took Sanji nearly ten minutes to return. Zoro heard Caesar before he saw him, loudly complaining. "This is outrageous! I haven't even had breakfast." 

The door opened, and Sanji stepped aside to let the pharmaceutical researcher enter. Caesar looked thoroughly offended. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Good morning, Caesar," Mihawk said. "Please, sit."

"I demand to know why I've been summoned."

"You'll find it easier to discuss the matter sitting down."

Caesar looked between Mihawk, Zoro, and Sanji.

"What's he doing here?" he demanded, pointing at Zoro.

"He's the person who became ill yesterday."

"I know who he is."

"Then perhaps we can proceed."

Caesar dropped into the empty chair with an irritated huff. Sanji closed the door and remained beside it. Mihawk opened the folder on his desk. "I've been informed that you were seen handling something near Crocodile's decanter shortly before Zoro became ill."

Caesar went still, then he laughed. "Shurorororo. What an absurd accusation."

"Is it?"

"Yes. Completely absurd. I had nothing to do with that," Caesar insisted. 

"Then you won't object to explaining what you were doing."

"I was getting a drink."

"According to the servant who saw you, you were putting something into your pocket when she entered."

Caesar's expression soured. "Are we taking the word of servants now?"

Mihawk regarded him. "Yes."

Zoro almost smiled.

Caesar looked toward Sanji. "And what exactly are you doing here? You're not even a beneficiary."

Sanji smiled pleasantly. "Just listening."

"Then listen somewhere else."

"Caesar," Mihawk said.

"What?"

"Did you put anything into Crocodile's brandy?"

"No."

Mihawk waited.

Caesar folded his arms. "This is ridiculous. If someone tampered with Crocodile's liquor, perhaps you should be questioning Crocodile."

"We are questioning the person observed near the decanter," Mihawk replied. "I also have the container secured, and I'm prepared to have its contents professionally examined."

Caesar's gaze shifted toward the folder. The man was getting more agitated by the minute. "What exactly are you suggesting?" 

"That you may have added a substance to the liquor."

"Why would I do that?"

"That's what I'd like you to explain."

Caesar looked at Zoro. "Well, don't just sit there. Tell him I had nothing to do with it."

Zoro raised an eyebrow. "How would I know?"

"Because I wouldn't poison you."

"Somebody put something in that drink."

"It wasn't poison!"

The room went silent.

Mihawk folded his hands on the desk. "I see."

Caesar's mouth opened and closed.

Zoro stared at him. "You little shit."

"Now, wait."

"What'd you put in it?"

"Nothing dangerous."

"That's not what I asked."

Caesar looked toward Mihawk, apparently hoping for assistance. He didn't get any. The attorney simply continued staring at him.

"Oh, stop looking at me like that!" Caesar snapped. "You're making it sound like I've committed murder." 

Mihawk raised an eyebrow. "Then I suggest you explain what you did."

Caesar sank lower in his chair. "Fine. It was a recreational compound."

Zoro stared. "A what?"

"CX-17. It's a synthetic analogue of psilocybin, a compound I've been developing from my research into psychoactive fungi." Caesar straightened a little, apparently pleased to have an opportunity to discuss his work. "It's designed to produce a shorter, more manageable psychedelic experience than ordinary psilocybin." 

Mihawk's expression hardened. "You administered an experimental drug without anyone's knowledge?"

"Oh, don't be so dramatic. It was a tiny amount."

"To whom?"

Caesar hesitated, then he glanced toward the door. "Crocodile."

Zoro leaned forward. "You put drugs in somebody's booze?"

"It was supposed to be harmless!"

"Supposed to be?"

"I know what I'm doing."

"Yesterday, I couldn't walk up the stairs without help!"

"Well, you weren't supposed to drink it."

Zoro stared at him. Caesar threw up his hands. "Crocodile's been an insufferable bastard for years. He talks down to everyone, thinks he's so much better than the rest of us, and spends half his time making snide remarks about my work. I thought it would be amusing to see him lose that precious composure of his for once."

"You thought drugging him would be funny?" Zoro asked.

"He would've experienced some altered perception, perhaps a little euphoria, and then recovered. It wasn't meant to hurt anyone."

Zoro leaned back in his chair. "You're an idiot."

Caesar looked offended. "The dosage was perfectly calculated!"

"For Crocodile?"

"Yes."

"And how much was I supposed to drink?"

Caesar opened his mouth. Then closed it.

Zoro gestured toward him. "Yeah. Thought so."

Mihawk's expression remained severe. "Caesar, you've admitted to deliberately contaminating a drink intended for another guest. Regardless of your intentions, Zoro became ill after consuming it. The fact that you apparently used an experimental compound makes the situation considerably more serious."

Caesar looked increasingly uncomfortable. "Nobody was permanently harmed."

"That remains to be established."

"He's sitting right there."

"That doesn't excuse what you did."

Zoro rubbed his forehead. He couldn't believe this. Of all the stupid reasons to drug somebody. "And then you blamed Crocodile," he said.

Caesar avoided his gaze. "I panicked."

"No shit."

"And I knew Mihawk would come after whoever did it. Have you ever been on the receiving end of one of his interrogations?"

Zoro glanced at Mihawk. The attorney was watching Caesar with his usual severe expression. Zoro had to admit he wouldn't want to be on the wrong side of that desk, either.

"I also didn't expect anyone else to drink it," Caesar protested. 

"Was sitting on a table full of booze."

"It was Crocodile's decanter."

"Which you left out where anyone could use it."

Caesar had no answer for that.

Mihawk closed the folder. "You'll provide the precise identity and composition of the substance, its concentration, and any relevant safety information. I'll pass that information to the medical professionals who advised us yesterday."

Caesar looked horrified. "You can't do that! It's proprietary research."

"You should've considered that before putting it into someone's drink."

"I could lose my position."

"That's among the consequences you'll have to face,” Mihawk said. Caesar began protesting again, but Mihawk interrupted him. "You'll also provide a written account of exactly what happened. The decanter and glass will remain secured as evidence, and this matter will be referred to the appropriate authorities."

"Over a harmless joke?"

Zoro stood. Caesar stopped talking. "Could've killed somebody, you moron."

"It wouldn't have."

"You don't know that."

Caesar looked away. Zoro shook his head. He'd known plenty of people who did stupid things when they were drunk, but Caesar had apparently managed to do something stupider while sober.

Mihawk dismissed him with instructions to return to the office after breakfast with the requested information. Caesar left in a fury, muttering about professional reputations and unreasonable people. Sanji shut the door behind him.

For a moment, nobody spoke.

Then Zoro looked at Mihawk. "That guy's a scientist?"

"Apparently."

"Damn."

Sanji laughed softly.

Zoro looked toward him. "You knew?"

"I suspected he was involved. I didn't know what he'd used or why."

"Could've warned me."

"I was hoping to establish what happened before adding another accusation to the collection."

Zoro had to concede to that. "Makes sense." He was still irritated, but mostly at Caesar. At least the bizarre episode had an explanation now.

Mihawk gathered his papers. "I'll contact the clinician again once Caesar supplies the information. In the meantime, I strongly recommend avoiding anything he's had access to."

"Was planning on it."

Sanji smiled. "A sensible precaution."

Zoro glanced at him. "Anything else I should know before breakfast?"

"Nothing that can't wait," Mihawk said.

"Good. I'm starving."

Breakfast had been underway for some time when they finally reached the dining room. Zoro loaded a plate with eggs, bacon, and toast, then added a helping of potatoes. Sanji selected a more modest portion and joined him at a table near the windows.

The dining room was almost empty. Buggy sat alone near the far end, eating hurriedly while reading something on his phone. Crocodile had apparently finished already, and Lucci was nowhere to be seen. 

Zoro was grateful for the lack of company. He'd had enough of Rayleigh's relatives for one morning.

Sanji waited until Zoro had started eating before speaking. "So, tell me something new about your dojo."

Zoro glanced at him. "Like what?"

"Anything. You've told me how you started teaching, but I'd like to hear more about the place."

Zoro considered that while he finished chewing. "Used to be an auto repair shop. Bought it cheap because the previous owner left it in pretty rough shape."

"That must've taken some work."

"Yeah. Spent six months fixing it up before I could open. Had to replace most of the plumbing, tear out a couple walls, put down proper flooring."

"Did you do all that yourself?"

"Most of it. Hired people for the electrical stuff. Had a couple friends help with the heavy lifting."

Sanji looked impressed. "I'd love to see it sometime."

"You'd be welcome."

"I'll hold you to that."

"Could use somebody to impress the students."

Sanji laughed. "I don't know about that."

For a while, they ate without much more conversation. Zoro was more interested in his breakfast than discussing Caesar's stupidity again, and Sanji seemed content to let him finish.

Eventually, Zoro set down his fork. "Can't believe he thought that was funny."

"The drink?"

"Yeah."

Sanji shook his head. "Some people have strange ideas about practical jokes."

"Should've put salt in Crocodile's coffee or something."

"Would've been considerably safer."

"Probably still would've gotten punched."

Sanji laughed. Zoro grinned and reached for another piece of toast.

The rest of Sunday passed considerably more pleasantly. The weather had improved, although the grounds remained too wet for much exploring. The creek was still over the crossing, according to Mrs. Buckingham, but the water had begun receding. If the forecast held, the road might be passable sometime Monday.

Zoro spent part of the afternoon reviewing the estate's maintenance records with Mihawk, who'd arranged for several documents to be brought down from the household office. There were invoices for roof repairs, annual servicing agreements, insurance policies, and more expenses than Zoro cared to contemplate.

He was definitely selling the place.

Sanji joined him afterward, and they spent some time in the library looking through Rayleigh's collection of books. Zoro found several volumes about traditional swordsmanship, which interested him considerably more than the financial records. Sanji discovered an old cookbook among a shelf of regional histories and immediately became absorbed in it.

"Find something interesting?" Zoro asked.

"Very. This is an early collection of regional recipes. Some of these techniques aren't used much anymore."

"Like what?"

Sanji turned the book toward him, pointing to an illustration of a complicated pastry. "For one thing, this. Getting the layers right would've taken hours."

Zoro studied the illustration. "Looks like a lot of work for something somebody's gonna eat in five minutes."

Sanji laughed. "Well, that's rather the point. If somebody enjoys it enough to finish in five minutes, I've done my job." 

Zoro left him reading while he examined the neighboring shelves. He'd just pulled out a book about Japanese swordsmithing when Mrs. Buckingham entered. "Mr. Roronoa?"

"Yeah?"

"Mr. Mihawk asked me to let you know that we've discovered a missing key."

Zoro put the book down. "Another one?"

"A key to one of the service passages on the second floor. It should've been on the household key board, but it hasn't been returned."

"Which passage?"

"The corridor behind the principal guest suites, sir. The staff use it for housekeeping and maintenance access."

Zoro frowned. "My room's up there."

"Yes, sir. The missing key opens the service entrance to the dressing room attached to your suite."

Sanji closed his book. "How long has it been missing?"

"We're not certain. The keys are signed out as needed, but this one wasn't properly recorded. We only discovered the discrepancy while checking them after the disturbances."

"Could somebody have borrowed it?" Zoro asked.

"Possibly. We're asking the staff, although nobody has claimed it."

Zoro considered that. "Guess somebody might've forgotten to put it back."

"That's certainly possible, sir. Mr. Mihawk has instructed us to check all the service doors and report any further discrepancies."

Sanji had risen from his chair. "Does the dressing room door have a bolt on the inside?"

"Yes, Mr. Vinsmoke."

"Would you mind showing us?"

"Certainly."

Zoro looked between them. "What's the big deal?"

Sanji glanced at him. "Someone's been entering rooms they shouldn't, and now a key to your dressing room is missing. I'd rather make sure nobody can walk in while you're asleep."

"Yeah. Good point."

Mrs. Buckingham led them upstairs. The service corridor was narrow and plainly furnished, with painted walls and a wooden floor. Several doors opened into guestrooms and dressing rooms along its length. Zoro hadn't even known the passage existed. The door to his dressing room was near the far end.

Mrs. Buckingham demonstrated the lock and the interior bolt, explaining that staff ordinarily used the service entrance when cleaning the suite or delivering fresh linens.

Sanji examined the hardware. "Does anyone else have a copy of the key?"

"The master key will open it, but the individual key is missing."

"And the master?"

"Accounted for."

Sanji nodded. "Thank you."

They entered the dressing room through the service door, and Sanji slid the bolt into place. "There. Keep that fastened."

Zoro tried the handle. The door remained shut.

Mrs. Buckingham excused herself, promising to let Mihawk know that they'd checked the room. Once she'd gone, Zoro looked at Sanji. "You're taking this pretty seriously."

"Someone's been snooping around the house. I'd rather you didn't have any unexpected visitors."

"Especially after yesterday?"

"Especially after yesterday."

Zoro glanced toward the connecting door to Sanji's room. "Could always keep you around."

Sanji smiled. "I was hoping you'd suggest that."

"Thought you might."

Zoro stepped closer and kissed him. Sanji returned it, resting a hand lightly against his waist.

When they parted, the blond looked pleased. "Still want to spend the evening together?"

"Yeah."

"Then I'll see you after dinner."

Zoro smiled. "Don't get lost."

Sanji laughed. "I'll do my best."

By ten that evening, Zoro had decided he'd had enough of the relatives. Dinner had been another lengthy affair, although Caesar had kept his distance from him. Crocodile had been informed of the drugging incident and was furious, which Zoro considered entirely reasonable. The two men spent much of the meal exchanging hostile looks from opposite ends of the table.

Moria complained about the missing antiques again. Buggy complained about being stuck at the manor. Doflamingo made a few cutting remarks about Zoro's dick size before retiring early. Lucci ate with the others, Hattori perched on the back of his chair, but left shortly after dessert, explaining that he had work to finish.

Zoro was relieved when the meal finally ended. He found Sanji in the drawing room afterward, reading through something on his phone. "Ready to go upstairs?"

Sanji looked up and smiled. "Absolutely."

They left the drawing room together, passing Mrs. Buckingham as she supervised the evening cleanup. Zoro wished her good night, then followed Sanji toward the staircase.

A few lights had been extinguished, and most of the corridors were deserted. The rain had stopped completely, leaving the windows dark except for the occasional reflection from the lamps. Zoro was glad to reach his suite.

Sanji followed him inside and glanced toward the balcony doors. They'd been secured earlier, and someone had placed a notice on them warning that the balcony was unsafe.

Zoro looked at it. "Guess I won't be going out there again."

"An excellent decision."

"Still can't believe that railing came down."

"Neither can I." Sanji crossed to the doors and checked that they were locked.

Zoro watched him. "You're really worried about that, huh?"

"I'd rather you didn't fall off anything else this weekend."

"Planning to stay on the ground."

"Good." Sanji smiled and came back toward him.

They spent the next hour enjoying each other's company, eventually moving into the bedroom. Zoro's hip was still bruised, so they took things slowly, and he discovered that Sanji was particularly good at finding ways to keep him comfortable.

Afterward, they cleaned up and settled beneath the sheets. Sanji turned off the bedside lamp.

For a while, they talked in the dark, their conversation wandering from the terrible television shows they'd watched as teenagers to places they'd traveled and foods Sanji wanted Zoro to try.

Zoro was beginning to get sleepy when Sanji shifted beside him.

"One thing before we go to sleep."

"Hm?"

"That service door. You didn’t unbolt it, did you?"

“No. Why would I?” Zoro turned his head toward him. "You expecting somebody to come through it?"

"No. But I don't like that the key's missing."

"Hn."

"Just being careful."

Zoro reached for him beneath the covers. "Come here."

Sanji moved closer, resting his head against Zoro's shoulder.

"Better?"

"Yeah." Sanji laughed softly.

They fell asleep together.

Zoro woke to a noise. At first, he couldn't tell what had disturbed him. The room was dark, with only a faint strip of light coming through the curtains from the exterior lamps. Sanji was asleep beside him.

Zoro lay still and listened. There it was again. A faint metallic scraping sound from the dressing room. He frowned. Maybe one of the old pipes.

Then came a heavier noise, followed by a distinct crack.

Zoro sat up. "Sanji."

The blond stirred immediately. "What?"

"Somebody's in the dressing room."

Sanji was awake in an instant. He sat up, listening. Another noise came from beyond the bedroom door. The handle turned.

"Stay behind me," Sanji said, already getting out of bed.

Zoro swung his legs over the side. "Who the hell's there?"

The door opened. A dark figure stood in the doorway. For a moment, Zoro couldn't make out anything beyond a broad outline and the glint of something in the person's hand.

Then the intruder came straight at him.

"Shit!" Zoro came off the bed, bringing his arm up as the man swung. Something struck his forearm hard enough to make him curse, but he managed to catch the man's wrist and shove him backward.

Sanji was already coming around the foot of the enormous bed, but the intruder had reached Zoro first. The attacker twisted against Zoro's grip, drove a shoulder into him, and knocked him against the edge of the wardrobe. Zoro's bruised hip took the impact. "Fuck!"

Sanji caught the intruder from the side, driving him away from Zoro with enough force to send them both stumbling into the dressing-room doorway.

The attacker tried to turn. Sanji struck him, then caught his weapon arm before he could swing again. Zoro heard the impact, followed by a grunt. Something metallic clattered onto the floor as Sanji forced the man's wrist down.

The intruder twisted violently, wrenching free before Sanji could secure his arm. He staggered backward through the dressing room.

"Stop!" Zoro shouted.

The figure disappeared through the service door. Sanji started after him. Zoro followed, grabbing the doorframe for support as his hip protested. By the time they reached the service corridor, the attacker had vanished.

Sanji stopped near the corner, listening. A door slammed somewhere farther down the passage.

"Shit," Zoro muttered.

Sanji glanced at him. "Are you hurt?"

"Arm. Hip. Nothing serious."

"Let me see."

"Guy's getting away."

"And we don't know whether he's armed or whether someone else is waiting around the corner."

Zoro looked down the deserted corridor. Sanji had a point. The service passage was dimly lit, with several doors leading into other parts of the house. They could hear footsteps somewhere in the distance, but it was impossible to tell which way the attacker had gone.

Sanji took Zoro by the arm. "Back inside."

Zoro hesitated, then followed him into the dressing room. The service door hung partly open. The small bolt they'd secured earlier had been torn away from the wooden frame, leaving two screws protruding from the damaged mounting plate.

Zoro stared at it. "Well, that explains the noise."

Sanji examined the damage without touching it, a deep frown on his face.

They returned to the bedroom. Zoro switched on the lights. One of the bedside tables had been knocked crooked, the sheets were half off the mattress, and a small decorative box had fallen from the dresser. Near the dressing-room entrance lay a heavy metal object. It was a short steel bar, perhaps a foot long, with a wrapped grip at one end.

He stared at it. "Guy was gonna hit me with that?"

Sanji came up beside him. "Looks that way."

"Damn." Zoro looked toward the bed. The intruder had entered while they were sleeping. If Zoro hadn't woken up because of the noise, the man might've reached them before either had a chance to react.

He rubbed his injured forearm.

Sanji took out his phone. "I'm calling Mihawk."

"Yeah. Good idea."

This time, Sanji didn't simply ask for someone to inspect the damage. He explained that an intruder had forced the dressing-room door and attacked Zoro, then asked Mihawk to contact the police immediately. 

Zoro listened while Sanji gave a brief description of what had happened. There wasn't much to describe about the attacker himself. The bedroom had been dark, and the man had moved too quickly for Zoro to get a proper look at his face. Dark clothing. Broad shoulders. Strong. He'd been a few inches taller than Zoro, too, although it was difficult to be certain in the dark. That ruled out Doflamingo and Moria, and Caesar was much too thin. Buggy and Lucci were both about the right size, though. Zoro couldn't narrow it down any further. 

Sanji ended the call and turned toward him. "Mihawk's on his way. He's contacting the police now."

"Good."

Sanji examined Zoro's forearm. A bruise was already developing where the metal bar had struck him. "Does it hurt to move?"

"Little."

"Can you turn your wrist?"

Zoro demonstrated. "Yeah."

"Any numbness?"

"No."

Sanji nodded. "We should have that looked at."

"Probably." Zoro glanced toward the dressing room. "Think that was the same guy going through Rayleigh's stuff?"

"Possibly."

"Why the hell would he attack me?"

Sanji looked at him. "I don't know."

Zoro frowned. He'd dealt with plenty of angry people in his life. Most of them were all talk, and the few who actually wanted to fight generally made their intentions clear. This was different. Someone had broken into his bedroom in the middle of the night and come at him with a metal bar.

He looked toward the bed. Sanji had been sleeping right beside him. Whoever had done this could've hurt both of them.

"Asshole," Zoro muttered.

Sanji rested a hand against his back. "Sit down for a minute."

Zoro sat on the edge of the bed. He was beginning to feel the aftermath of the fight. His hip ached, his arm throbbed, and his heart was still beating faster than normal.

Sanji sat beside him. For a moment, they remained together without speaking.

Zoro glanced at him. "You're pretty good in a fight."

Sanji smiled faintly. "I've had some training."

"Some?"

"Quite a bit."

"Hn." Zoro looked at the steel bar lying near the dressing-room entrance. "Good thing."

"Yes."

They heard footsteps approaching from the main corridor. A moment later, Mihawk knocked on the sitting-room door. "Zoro? It's Mihawk."

Sanji rose to let him in.

The attorney entered wearing trousers, a dark shirt, and a dressing gown. He looked unusually stern as he examined the damaged room. "Are you both all right?"

"Mostly," Zoro said.

Mihawk looked toward the dressing room. "Mrs. Buckingham and another member of the household staff are checking the service passage. I've instructed everyone to work in pairs rather than search the house alone. The police have been contacted, although the flooded crossing is still preventing vehicles from reaching us."

"Great," Zoro muttered.

"They're arranging assistance as soon as access is possible. In the meantime, I've asked the groundskeeper to secure the exterior entrances, and the household staff will account for the guests."

Sanji gestured toward the steel bar. "That was left behind."

Mihawk examined it from a distance. "Don't touch it. We'll preserve the scene for the police."

"Wasn't planning to," Zoro said.

Mihawk turned toward him. "Can you describe the attacker?"

"Dark clothes. Pretty big guy. Couldn't see his face."

"Anything distinctive?"

Zoro thought back. The struggle had lasted only seconds. He'd been focused on keeping the man from hitting him again, and the room had been almost completely dark. "Didn't hear him say anything."

Sanji shook his head. "Neither did I."

Mihawk nodded slowly. "Very well." He looked toward the damaged service door. "We'll have that entrance secured immediately. Until the police arrive, I'd prefer that neither of you move about the house alone."

"Wasn't planning to," Zoro said.

"Good."

Mihawk spoke briefly with Sanji about securing the suite and whether any immediate medical assistance was needed. Zoro listened, increasingly impressed by how calmly the blond handled the situation. He'd seemed perfectly comfortable during the fight, too. More than comfortable, really.

Zoro glanced at him. Security consulting, huh? He was beginning to suspect Sanji's job involved considerably more than paperwork.

Mrs. Buckingham appeared a few minutes later with a member of the household staff. She looked horrified when she saw the damaged door. "I can't imagine how this happened," she said.

"Someone forced the bolt," Mihawk replied. "We'll need to secure the opening until it can be repaired."

"Of course, sir." She examined the doorframe, then glanced toward the service corridor. "Mr. Mihawk, I should mention that the missing key still hasn't been recovered."

"I understand."

"And the lock to the service passage doesn't appear to have been damaged."

Mihawk's expression hardened. "Then whoever entered may have used that key."

Zoro looked toward the dressing room. "Guess so."

Mrs. Buckingham shook her head. "After all the trouble we've had this weekend..." She stopped, apparently noticing something near the bottom of the dressing room door. "What's that?"

Sanji followed her gaze. A small white feather had become caught against the lower edge of the door, just above the carpet.

Zoro stared at it. "Huh."

Mrs. Buckingham crouched, then stopped when Mihawk asked her to leave it in place. "Could've come from that dreadful coat," she said. "We've been finding feathers everywhere."

"Doflamingo's?" Zoro asked.

"Yes, sir. Pink and white ones. They've turned up all over the house."

Zoro looked at the feather again. It certainly could've come from Doflamingo's coat, although that didn't explain how it had ended up caught beneath the dressing-room door.

Sanji took out his phone and photographed the doorway, the feather, and the damaged bolt. Mihawk made a note of the location. "We'll leave it for the police."

Zoro nodded. At this point, he was more interested in getting the service door secured than examining feathers.

The staff brought a heavy piece of furniture from a nearby room and helped position it against the damaged entrance after documenting the scene. Mrs. Buckingham promised to have somebody remain nearby until morning.

Mihawk reviewed the arrangements, then turned toward Zoro and Sanji. "I'll speak with the other guests and make certain everyone is accounted for. If either of you remembers anything else about the attack, please tell me immediately."

"Will do," Zoro said.

Mihawk hesitated. "I'm very sorry this happened."

Zoro shrugged. "Didn't exactly see it coming."

"Nevertheless." The attorney looked toward Sanji. "Mr. Sanji, a word before I go?"

Sanji nodded. They stepped into the sitting room, where Zoro could hear them speaking quietly but couldn't make out the conversation. He didn't particularly care. His hip hurt, his arm hurt, and he'd very much like to get back into bed.

After a few minutes, Mihawk departed. Sanji returned to the bedroom and closed the door. "Everything's arranged."

"Good."

Sanji sat beside him. "How're you feeling?"

"Like somebody tried to beat the shit out of me."

The blond winced. "Sorry."

"You're the one who stopped him."

Sanji smiled faintly. Zoro looked at him for a moment. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

He reached for Sanji's hand. The blond took it.

Zoro glanced toward the dressing room, where the damaged door was now blocked by a heavy cabinet. "Think he'll come back?"

"I doubt it tonight. Whoever it was knows we're awake, and Mihawk's got people watching the corridors." Sanji looked around the bedroom. "Still, I'd rather we slept in my room. We can leave this one undisturbed for the police."

"Sounds good to me."

They collected their phones and a few necessities, leaving everything else untouched. Sanji led him through the connecting door into his adjoining suite, then checked the locks on the doors to the corridor and Zoro's dressing room.

His bedroom was smaller than Zoro's, although the bed looked plenty comfortable. Zoro sat on the edge of it while Sanji made one more check of the windows and drew the curtains.

"Expecting somebody to climb through those, too?" Zoro asked.

"After tonight, I'd rather be careful," Sanji said. 

"Can't argue with that."

Sanji finished checking the window latches, then joined him on the bed.

"Better?" Zoro asked.

"Much."

Zoro smiled. "Good. Now come here."

They settled into bed together, leaving the lamp on and their phones within reach. Zoro's hip ached, and his forearm was beginning to bruise, but he was glad to be somewhere with an intact door.

For a while, they talked quietly about what had happened, trying to remember anything useful about the attacker. Neither had gotten a good look at him. Zoro was certain the man had been strong, and Sanji remembered that he'd moved quickly when he broke free. Beyond that, there wasn't much to go on.

Eventually, Zoro settled back against his pillow. "What a fucking weekend."

Sanji laughed softly. "It has been eventful."

"That's one word for it." Zoro turned toward him. "Next time we spend a weekend together, we're going somewhere boring." 

Sanji smiled. "Somewhere boring?"

"Beach. Hotel. Maybe a cabin. No relatives."

"That sounds lovely."

"And no one trying to kill me."

"I'd certainly prefer that."

Zoro grinned.

Sanji leaned over and kissed him. "Get some rest," he murmured.

"Yeah." Zoro settled against him, careful of his bruised hip and aching arm. Outside, the rain had finally stopped. 

He'd inherited the mansion on Friday, been drugged and nearly fallen off a balcony on Saturday, and now somebody had broken into his bedroom and attacked him in the middle of the night. He was supposed to go home tomorrow. At this point, he couldn't wait.

Still, Sanji's arm was around him, and the blond had agreed to another weekend together. Zoro smiled faintly. At least he'd gotten something good out of the trip.

Zoro woke to a hand sliding across his stomach. He kept his eye closed for another moment, enjoying the attention. Sanji was pressed against his back, warm beneath the sheets, his long hair tickling Zoro's shoulder whenever he moved.

"Morning," Sanji murmured.

"Hn."

"You're awake."

"Getting there."

Sanji kissed the back of his neck. Zoro smiled.

He'd slept surprisingly well, considering somebody had tried to murder him the night before. His forearm was sore, his hip still bruised from Saturday's fall, and he was beginning to wonder whether he'd have any uninjured parts left by the time he got home.

At least Sanji seemed determined to make the mornings worthwhile.

Zoro rolled over to face him. The blond's hair was a tangled mess again, and his beard had left a faint patch of irritation along Zoro's neck. He looked sleepy and entirely too attractive for somebody who'd apparently spent most of the night keeping an ear out for intruders.

"Sleep any?" Zoro asked.

"Some."

"That's encouraging."

"I've had worse nights."

"Yeah?"

Sanji smiled. "Much worse."

Zoro reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from his face. "Could've fooled me. Look like you got dragged through a hedge."

Sanji laughed. "Your fault, I'm afraid."

"Pretty sure you were the one making a mess of it."

"As if you weren't helping."

Zoro grinned and pulled him closer. The kiss started lazily enough, but Sanji's hand slipped around his waist, and Zoro found himself considerably more awake than he'd been a minute earlier.

Sanji drew back to look at him. "How's your arm?"

"Sore. Works fine, though."

"Good. And your hip?"

"Better than yesterday."

Sanji nodded. "Glad to hear it."

Zoro leaned in and kissed him again. "Come here."

Sanji obliged.

They took their time, mindful of Zoro's bruises, and for a while the previous night's excitement became considerably less important than the handsome man in bed with him.

They made it into the shower nearly an hour later. Zoro had intended to wash up and get dressed, but Sanji followed him into the bathroom, and the shower still had plenty of room for two. It also turned out that Sanji had very little respect for the concept of personal space.

Zoro was trying to rinse shampoo out of his hair when a pair of hands settled on his waist. "You're distracting me," he said.

"Am I?"

"Yeah."

"Sorry."

Sanji didn't sound particularly sorry.

Zoro turned beneath the spray and caught him around the waist. "You're terrible."

"So I've been told."

Sanji kissed him, and Zoro decided the shampoo could wait.

By the time they finished showering, the bathroom mirrors had fogged over and Zoro was beginning to appreciate why people with large houses sometimes installed enormous water heaters. He dried himself off while Sanji brushed his hair in front of the mirror.

"Think Mrs. Buckingham'll be offended if I ask for a late breakfast?" Zoro asked.

"I doubt it. She's been remarkably accommodating."

"Hn. Think I'll miss having somebody else make breakfast."

"Getting spoiled already?"

"By the food? Definitely."

Sanji smiled. "Well, I suppose I could make you breakfast sometime."

Zoro glanced at him. "At my place?"

"If you'll let me."

"Sure. Kitchen's tiny, though."

"I've worked in worse."

Zoro pulled on clean underwear and a pair of jeans, then selected one of the few shirts he had left. He'd packed for the weekend, figuring he'd be home by Monday evening, and the unexpected extension of his stay had already used up most of his clothes.

He checked the time. Almost ten. "Think the road's open yet?"

"Possibly. Mihawk said the water had been receding."

"Hope so. Got classes tomorrow."

"Are you planning to drive home today?"

"If I can."

Sanji set down his brush. "I'd prefer you had your arm examined before making a long drive."

Zoro glanced down at the bruising along his forearm. "Told you, works fine."

"That wasn't what I said."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll get it checked." Zoro grinned rottenly. "Mother hen."

"Only when necessary."

"Seems pretty necessary all the time."

Sanji laughed and came over to kiss him. "Get dressed. I'll see whether breakfast's still available."

Zoro watched him leave the bathroom, appreciating the view. This weekend hadn't been a complete disaster.

The dining room was nearly empty when they arrived. Mrs. Buckingham had arranged a smaller breakfast service, with eggs, toast, fruit, and several covered dishes kept warm on the sideboard. The staff appeared to be moving at a slightly more relaxed pace now that most of the guests had begun making arrangements to leave.

Zoro helped himself to a substantial breakfast while Sanji poured coffee. They took seats near the windows overlooking the courtyard. The weather had improved considerably. Sunlight broke through the clouds in scattered patches, illuminating the wet gravel and the fallen branches that groundskeepers had begun clearing from the drive.

Zoro was halfway through his eggs when Mihawk entered. He looked as impeccably dressed as ever, although there were faint shadows beneath his eyes. "Good morning."

"Morning," Zoro said.

Sanji nodded. "Any news about the road?"

"The water has receded substantially,” Mihawk said. “The groundskeeper believes the crossing may be passable by this afternoon, provided the creek continues to fall."

"Good."

"I've also spoken with the police again. They intend to come as soon as access is safe."

Zoro nodded. "Find out who broke into my room?"

"Not yet. I've spoken with the household staff and the other guests. Nobody admits to having seen anyone in the service corridor last night."

"Figures."

"The missing key is still unaccounted for."

Sanji set down his coffee. "And the feather?"

"Still where it was found, along with the other evidence. I've instructed the staff to leave that section of the room undisturbed."

Zoro looked toward the windows. He'd been thinking about the attack off and on since waking, trying to remember anything useful about the intruder. The man had been strong and moved well. Zoro had caught his wrist, but the struggle had lasted only seconds before Sanji intervened. He couldn't recall seeing his face.

Mihawk glanced toward him. "How is your arm?"

"Sore. Sanji wants me to get it checked."

"An excellent suggestion. Once the road is open, we can arrange that."

Zoro sighed. "Everybody's ganging up on me."

Sanji smiled. "Only for your own good."

Mihawk's mouth curved faintly. "Of course."

Mrs. Buckingham appeared in the doorway before Zoro could answer. "Mr. Mihawk? May I have a word?"

"Certainly."

She approached the table, looking troubled. "I'm afraid there's another problem."

Zoro put down his fork. “Of course there is.”

Mrs. Buckingham glanced apologetically toward him. "One of the storage cabinets in the laundry room has been damaged. It appears somebody tried to force the lock."

Mihawk straightened. "Which cabinet?"

"The one where you placed Lord Rayleigh's medications and personal effects awaiting disposal."

Zoro looked up. "His medications?"

"Yes, sir. Mr. Mihawk asked that they be secured until arrangements could be made for their proper disposal."

Mihawk rose. "Has anything been removed?"

"I'm not certain. One of the attendants heard a noise and found Mr. Buggy in the laundry room. He claims he was looking for a clean towel."

Zoro stared at her. "Buggy?"

"Yes, sir."

Mihawk exchanged a glance with Sanji. "Where is he now?"

"Still there. I asked two members of the staff to remain nearby while I came to find you."

"Good. Don't let anyone touch the cabinet."

Zoro pushed back his chair. "Guess breakfast's over."

The laundry room was empty when they arrived, with the washers and dryers sitting idle and several baskets of linens waiting to be sorted. The usual stacks of clean towels and bedding lined the shelves, but the storage cabinet on the far wall had been forced open. 

Its doors hung crookedly, the hasp bent away from the wood. Several cardboard boxes had been pulled from the shelves nearby, and a collection of bottles and small containers lay scattered across the floor.

Buggy stood beside the folding table, arguing with a young member of the household staff. "I told you! I was looking for towels!"

"Sir, the towels are on the shelves behind you."

"Well, maybe I didn't see them."

Zoro stopped in the doorway. "Pretty hard to miss."

Buggy turned. His face went pale. "Oh. You."

"Morning."

Mihawk entered behind Zoro, followed by Sanji. "Mr. Buggy," Mihawk said. "Would you care to explain what happened here?"

"Nothing happened."

Mihawk looked at the damaged cabinet. "Nothing?"

Buggy glanced toward it. "The lock was already broken."

"Was it?"

"Yes."

Mrs. Buckingham stepped forward. "It was intact yesterday afternoon, sir."

Buggy rounded on her. "Well, then somebody else broke it."

Zoro looked at the scattered bottles. "Why're Rayleigh's meds in the laundry room?"

Mihawk answered without taking his eyes off Buggy. "I collected the remaining prescriptions after his death. They were awaiting proper disposal, along with several other medical supplies."

"Huh." Zoro crouched near the scattered containers, careful not to touch anything. There were prescription bottles, a few unopened packages of medical supplies, and several small boxes containing tablets. Most bore pharmacy labels with Rayleigh's name. One bottle had rolled beneath the edge of the folding table.

Buggy followed Zoro's gaze. His expression changed. "Don't touch that!"

Zoro looked up. "Wasn't going to."

Mihawk regarded Buggy. "Why are you so concerned about these medications?"

"I'm not."

"Then why were you attempting to open the cabinet containing them?"

"I wasn't."

Sanji folded his arms. "Rather unfortunate coincidence, then."

Buggy glared at him. "Nobody asked you."

Zoro considered the scattered bottles, the damaged lock, and Buggy's frantic insistence that he hadn't done anything. He remembered the man's furious reaction to his inheritance, and Moria revealing that Buggy owed him more money than Rayleigh had left him. Now here he was, breaking into a cabinet full of the old man's medication. "Why were you looking for Rayleigh's pills?"

Buggy's mouth opened, then closed. "I wasn't."

"Right."

"I told you, I wanted a towel."

"From a locked cabinet full of medicine?"

Buggy looked toward the door. Sanji shifted slightly, blocking his easiest route out of the room.

Mihawk looked toward the prescription bottles. "Buggy, did you have access to Rayleigh's medications while he was alive?" 

Buggy went still. "What?"

"You stayed at the manor during his final illness. Did you ever handle his medications?"

"Why would I? I'm not a doctor." 

Zoro folded his arms. The more questions they asked, the more interested Buggy seemed in the bottles scattered across the floor. "You're acting pretty guilty," he said.

"Shut up!" Buggy shouted. "I haven't done anything." 

Mihawk straightened. "Nobody is to touch anything here. Mrs. Buckingham, please ask the staff to remain outside and make certain the room is secured."

"Certainly, sir."

Mihawk turned toward Buggy. "You'll remain here until the police arrive."

Buggy's expression became increasingly desperate. "You can't keep me here!"

"I'm asking you to remain voluntarily while we establish what happened. I strongly advise you not to interfere with anything further."

"You're accusing me of something."

"I'm asking why you were attempting to access Rayleigh's medications."

"I wasn't."

Zoro rubbed his forehead. This was getting old.

Sanji glanced toward the doorway. "Perhaps we should move the others out of the room and leave the evidence undisturbed."

"Agreed," Mihawk said.

Mihawk turned toward Mrs. Buckingham. "Please contact the police again. Tell them we've discovered a break-in involving Rayleigh's remaining medications and that the room needs to be examined."

"Certainly, sir."

Buggy looked horrified. "The police? Over a broken cabinet?"

"Given the circumstances surrounding Rayleigh's death, I think it's appropriate," Mihawk replied.

"His death?" Zoro asked.

Mihawk glanced toward him. "Rayleigh's health declined unexpectedly shortly before he died. I want to establish whether anything happened to his medication during that period."

Buggy made a strangled noise. The man's face had gone pale, and he was staring at the bottles again.

"You all right?" Zoro asked.

"Of course I'm all right."

"Doesn’t look like you are."

"Shut up!" Buggy snapped.

Mihawk raised his voice. "Enough."

Buggy clamped his mouth shut.

Zoro glanced toward the scattered medication. He'd liked Rayleigh, and the possibility that somebody had deliberately made him sick was considerably less amusing than Buggy's usual nonsense.

For the first time, he began to wonder whether Rayleigh's death had been natural after all.

Buggy tried to leave twice. The first time, he announced that he needed to make an urgent telephone call. The second, he claimed he was going to be sick and demanded to use the bathroom.

Mihawk told him he was free to use the facilities, provided he left the medication alone and remained available to speak with the police. Buggy seemed disappointed that nobody was going to chase him.

By the time they returned to the drawing room, Moria had appeared, demanding to know what all the shouting had been about. Crocodile followed shortly afterward, apparently drawn by the prospect of another family scandal.

Zoro would've preferred going back to breakfast. Instead, he found himself standing beside the fireplace while Buggy insisted that the whole affair was a misunderstanding.

"You've always been obsessed with Rayleigh's money," Moria declared.

"Oh, like you haven't spent the entire weekend digging through his antiques."

"Those are family heirlooms."

"So's the money."

Crocodile gave an irritated sigh. "You're both embarrassing yourselves."

"Stay out of it," Buggy snapped.

Mihawk stood near the desk, speaking briefly with Mrs. Buckingham before sending her to secure the laundry room.

Zoro leaned toward Sanji. "Think either of them ever shuts up?"

"Unlikely."

Moria jabbed a finger toward Buggy. "And don't think I've forgotten about that seventy-five thousand dollars."

"Oh, for God's sake. I told you I'll pay you back."

"With your fifty-thousand-dollar inheritance?"

"Shut up."

"You've been borrowing money from me for months," Moria shouted. "You even called me the week before Rayleigh died, begging for another loan!" 

Buggy went still.

Mihawk looked up. "When was this?"

"The weekend the road flooded. I met him in town that Saturday morning."

Zoro remembered Caesar mentioning that the creek had flooded a week before Rayleigh died.

Mihawk's expression became intent. "You were staying here that weekend, weren't you, Buggy?"

"Yeah, so what?"

"I believe Rayleigh was particularly unwell around that time."

"He'd been sick for months."

"Indeed," Mihawk said.

Buggy opened his mouth, then apparently thought better of whatever he was about to say.

Zoro leaned toward Sanji. "Is he always this defensive?"

"I'm beginning to think so."

Mihawk turned back to Moria. "I'll need you to provide the date and any records of that meeting to the police."

"Gladly."

Buggy looked furious. "You're all making something out of nothing."

Mihawk regarded him. "You were staying at the manor during Rayleigh's final illness, and you've been found attempting to access his medications. Given the circumstances, the police will need to investigate."

"Nobody's proved anything."

"You're correct," Mihawk said. "That's why the evidence needs to be examined."

Buggy looked as though he hadn't expected anyone to agree with him.

Zoro studied him. The more Buggy talked, the harder it was to believe he'd been looking for a towel. He'd been desperate for money all weekend, and now he was desperate to explain why he'd been near Rayleigh's medication. "Buggy, why'd you need to get into that cabinet so badly?"

"I told you. I was looking for towels."

"Yeah. Sure."

Buggy's face reddened. "I didn't do anything to Rayleigh."

"Then why are you so worried about it?" Zoro asked.

"Because you're all accusing me of switching his Cardepril and causing his death."

The room fell silent.

"Who said anything about Cardepril?" Sanji said.

Buggy fell silent, then he looked at Mihawk. “I want a lawyer.”

Mihawk inclined his head. "That would be wise. However, it will not be me." 

Crocodile slowly shook his head. "Unbelievable."

Zoro wasn't sure what Buggy had expected to accomplish by getting into a locked cabinet full of prescription bottles. Even if he'd managed to destroy whatever he was looking for, the damaged lock would've drawn attention. Then again, the man had hardly demonstrated excellent judgment so far.

Mihawk instructed everyone to leave Buggy alone until the authorities arrived, explaining that he wanted no further interference with the evidence or arguments about the matter.

Zoro was happy to oblige. He'd had enough family drama to last several years.

It was nearly noon when Zoro and Sanji finally escaped the drawing room. Mrs. Buckingham had arranged for sandwiches and coffee to be available in the breakfast room, although Zoro was beginning to suspect that somebody could be arrested for murder and the household would still produce lunch on schedule.

He took a roast beef sandwich and a bottle of water. Sanji joined him at a small table near the windows. For several minutes, they ate without discussing the morning's excitement.

Then Zoro set down his sandwich. "Think Buggy killed Rayleigh?"

Sanji considered the question. "I think there's enough reason to investigate his death."

"Guy looked pretty guilty."

"He did."

"Still gotta prove it."

"Yeah."

Zoro took another bite. He'd liked Rayleigh. The old man had been funny, generous with his stories, and perfectly willing to spend two days sleeping in a stranger's apartment without complaining about the accommodations. The idea that somebody might've deliberately made him sick was unpleasant. "Hope they figure it out," he said.

Sanji nodded. "So do I."

Zoro finished chewing, although he'd lost some of his appetite. He'd come here expecting an ordinary weekend of paperwork and property inspections. Now he was wondering whether the man who'd left him a mansion had been murdered by his own family.

He glanced out the window. The courtyard was finally drying, although several puddles remained in the gravel. A groundskeeper was clearing fallen branches from the drive, and sunlight reflected from the wet stone fountain. "Wonder how much longer we're stuck here."

"Mihawk said he'd have an update after lunch."

"Good."

Zoro finished his sandwich, then stretched his sore arm carefully. He glanced at Sanji, who'd been looking out at the courtyard. "What?"

"Just wondering what you're going to do with the estate."

"Sell it, probably. Told Mihawk to arrange an appraisal."

"Any idea what you'll do with the money?"

"Fix up the dojo. Pay off the mortgage. Maybe replace my truck."

Sanji raised an eyebrow. "I thought you liked that truck."

"Do. Might keep it anyway."

"I'd be surprised if you didn't."

Zoro grinned. "Already got me figured out, huh?"

"I'm working on it."

Zoro was about to ask whether Sanji wanted another sandwich when something white drifted past the window. A pigeon landed on the stone ledge outside, fluffed its feathers, and began preening. Zoro looked at it. "Huh."

Sanji followed his gaze. "Huh, what?"

"That bird. Reminds me of Lucci's."

Sanji looked toward the pigeon. "Hattori?"

"Yeah. Weird thing to carry around everywhere."

"It is rather unusual."

Zoro watched the bird pull a loose feather from beneath its wing. Something about that caught his attention. He thought of the little white feather caught against the dressing-room door. "Hey – that feather they found last night."

"What about it?"

"Wasn't pink."

"No."

"Mrs. Buckingham thought it might've come from Doflamingo's coat."

"She did."

Zoro watched the pigeon shake out its wings. "Looked more like one of those."

Sanji followed his gaze again. "A pigeon feather?"

"Yeah."

For a moment, Sanji said nothing. Then he put down his glass. "You're right. It did."

Zoro thought about the previous evening. Lucci had carried Hattori around the mansion practically the entire weekend. The bird had been on his shoulder during the will reading, at breakfast, and at dinner. Zoro had even noticed a little white feather clinging to Lucci's jacket on Friday. "Could've come off Hattori," he said.

"Possibly."

"Lucci wasn't carrying him last night, though."

"Feathers cling to clothing."

"Yeah."

Sanji sat back. "Lucci also asked about the guest accommodations on Friday."

Zoro looked at him. "He did?"

"After the will reading. He wanted to know which rooms had been assigned and whether you'd been given the principal suite."

"Huh."

"I assumed he was curious about the arrangements. Everyone was asking questions about the property."

Zoro frowned. Lucci had been comparatively restrained throughout the weekend. He hadn't shouted about the inheritance or tried to buy the mansion, and he'd kept himself apart from most of the family arguments. But he'd looked decidedly unhappy when Mihawk announced that Zoro was inheriting the place. "Wasn't he asking about the rooms at dinner, too?"

Sanji nodded. "He asked Mrs. Buckingham whether the older service corridors were still in use."

Zoro thought back to Sunday afternoon. The missing key. The service passage behind his dressing room. The feather. "Shit."

Sanji looked at him. "What?"

"Lucci's got a bird. Someone used the service corridor to get into my room. And the key's missing. Those things could be connected."

"Yeah." Sanji's expression had become serious.

Zoro lowered his voice. "You think it was him?"

"I think we should tell Mihawk what we've noticed."

Zoro glanced toward the dining-room door. "Think he'd try something again?"

"I'd rather not find out."

"Good point."

Sanji took out his phone. "I'll ask Mihawk to meet us."

Zoro nodded. He watched the pigeon outside the window fly away, leaving a small feather behind on the ledge. He'd spent most of the weekend wondering why everybody was so interested in Rayleigh's money. Now he was beginning to wonder which of them might actually kill for it.

Mihawk met them in his office fifteen minutes later. Zoro had been hoping the attorney would tell him he was imagining things. Instead, Mihawk listened to their account without interrupting, occasionally making a note on the pad in front of him.

Sanji explained the feather, Lucci's interest in the guest rooms, and the questions he'd asked about the service corridors. Zoro added what he remembered about Hattori's feathers clinging to Lucci's clothing.

"And that key's still missing," he finished.

"It is," Mihawk confirmed.

"Could he have taken it?"

"Possibly. Mrs. Buckingham believes it disappeared sometime between Friday evening and Sunday morning. Several guests passed through the service hall during that period."

Zoro frowned. "Why would Lucci want me dead? He isn't even getting the house."

Mihawk set down his pen. "If you die before your acceptance becomes final on Friday, Caesar inherits the estate."

"Yeah, I remember."

"Lucci has always been strongly opposed to the property leaving the family. He argued with Rayleigh about it on several occasions."

Zoro remembered Lucci's remarks about the estate, and how he'd insisted Caesar would take better care of it. "So he'd rather Caesar got it than me?"

"Apparently."

"Even if it means killing somebody?"

Mihawk regarded him. "That may be exactly what he's attempted."

Zoro shook his head. He'd been planning to sell the property from the beginning. Lucci had apparently taken that as a good enough reason to get rid of him. "Crazy bastard."

Sanji leaned forward. "There's also the balcony."

Zoro looked at him. "What about it?"

"The railing collapsed on Saturday, after you'd been assigned that suite. Then someone entered your bedroom last night with a weapon."

Mihawk's expression became considerably more severe. "Are you suggesting the railing was deliberately damaged?"

"I think it needs to be examined with that possibility in mind," Sanji replied.

Zoro stared at him. "You're saying somebody messed with it?"

"I can't establish that yet. But the timing concerns me."

"Shit." He remembered the railing moving behind him, the sudden drop, and Sanji grabbing him before he went over. He'd assumed the damn thing was rotten. The idea that someone might've deliberately arranged for it to collapse made his stomach uncomfortable.

"Lucci could've gotten onto the balcony?" he asked.

"Possibly through your suite while you were elsewhere," Sanji said. "Did you usually lock the door when you went out?"

"Yeah. Always."

"Then someone would've needed a key, unless they found another way inside," Sanji said. "And there's still the missing service key. We'd need to establish who had access and whether the fittings show signs of interference." 

Mihawk nodded. "I've already arranged for an inspection. I'll make certain the police are aware of our concerns."

Zoro rubbed his forehead. “Damn.”

Sanji glanced at him. "You all right?"

"Yeah. Just trying to figure out what the hell I did to deserve this."

"Nothing," Sanji said.

Zoro looked at him.

The blond's expression was serious. "You inherited a house. That's hardly a reason for someone to attack you."

"Apparently somebody disagrees."

Mihawk rose from his desk. "I think it's time we speak with Lucci."

"Here?" Zoro asked.

"Yes. I'd prefer that he remain available until the police arrive."

Sanji stood as well. "I'll find him."

Mihawk looked toward Zoro. "Stay here for the moment."

Zoro raised an eyebrow. "Getting a little tired of people telling me where to go."

"I understand. Nevertheless, given what happened last night, I'd rather not have you wandering the house alone."

"Wasn't planning to."

Sanji moved toward the door, then paused. "I'll be back shortly."

Zoro nodded. He watched Sanji leave, then looked at Mihawk. "Guy's pretty helpful."

"He is."

"How long've you known him?"

Mihawk regarded him. "Several years."

"Huh." Zoro leaned back in his chair. He'd have to ask Sanji more about that later.

They found Lucci in the library. Zoro hadn't intended to accompany Mihawk, but after another fifteen minutes of waiting, he'd grown restless. Mihawk finally agreed that he could come along, provided they stayed together.

Sanji met them near the library doors. "He's inside," he said quietly. "Hattori's with him."

Mihawk nodded. They entered.

Lucci stood beside one of the windows, reading something on his phone. The white pigeon sat on his shoulder, occasionally preening its feathers. He looked up when they approached. "Something wrong?"

Mihawk stopped several feet away. "I'd like to ask you a few questions about the incidents over the weekend."

Lucci put away his phone. "Which incidents?"

"The disturbance in Rayleigh's bedroom, the damage to Zoro's balcony, and the attack last night."

Lucci's expression remained composed. "I've already told you I know nothing about the intruder."

"Then perhaps you can help us clarify a few details."

"Such as?"

Mihawk indicated the bird on his shoulder. "Does Hattori shed feathers frequently?"

Lucci looked at him. "Occasionally. Why?"

"A small white feather was found caught in the doorway used by the intruder."

Lucci glanced toward Zoro. "You're accusing me because I own a pigeon?"

"Nobody's accusing you of anything based on a feather alone," Mihawk replied.

Sanji folded his arms. "There's also the missing key."

Lucci looked toward him. "What missing key?"

"The one that opens the service entrance to Zoro's dressing room."

"I wouldn't know anything about that."

"Perhaps not."

Zoro watched Lucci carefully. He was still perfectly calm. Almost annoyingly so.

Mihawk continued. "You asked Mrs. Buckingham about the guest arrangements and the service corridors shortly after the will reading."

"Because I wanted to know where everyone was staying."

"Why?"

Lucci's expression tightened. "Because it's a large house, Mihawk. Some of us have spent time here before."

Zoro glanced toward Hattori. The pigeon had begun fussing with the feathers along its chest. A small white one loosened and settled against Lucci's jacket. Lucci brushed it away.

Zoro looked at Sanji. The blond had noticed.

Mihawk spoke again. "Rayleigh told me that you objected strongly to his decision to leave the estate outside the family."

"I did."

"And you remain opposed to it?"

"Yes."

"Even if Zoro chooses to sell?"

"Especially then."

Zoro frowned. "What's it matter to you? It's a house."

Lucci turned toward him. "It's been in the family for generations."

"Yeah. And Rayleigh left it to me."

"He made a mistake."

"Could've told him that."

"I did."

"Guess he didn't agree."

Lucci's jaw tightened.

Sanji shifted slightly closer to Zoro.

Mihawk continued. "Did you enter Zoro's suite at any point this weekend?"

"No."

"Did you take a key from the service hallway?"

"No."

"Did you access the balcony?"

Lucci looked at him. "Is this supposed to be an interrogation?"

"I'm asking whether you can help account for the damage and the missing key."

"I've already told you everything I know."

Mihawk regarded him for several seconds. "Very well. The police will want to speak with you once they arrive."

Lucci's expression changed. Only slightly, but Zoro noticed. "The police?"

"Yes. The road is expected to be passable shortly."

Lucci looked toward the windows, then back at Mihawk. "I see." He took his phone from his pocket. "Then perhaps I should contact my attorney."

"You're certainly entitled to do so."

Lucci nodded. He turned toward the door.

Sanji moved aside enough to let him pass, but remained close to Zoro.

Lucci stopped. For a moment, he looked at Sanji, then his gaze shifted toward Zoro. "You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into."

Zoro raised an eyebrow. "Getting a pretty good idea."

Lucci's expression hardened. "You think this is funny?"

"No. Think you're being an asshole."

Sanji stepped closer, his attention fixed on Lucci. 

"You knew Rayleigh for two days," Lucci said. "Two days, and you think you've got the right to dispose of something that's belonged to my family for generations."

"Didn't ask him to leave it to me."

"That hardly matters now, does it?"

Zoro shrugged. "If you've got a problem with his will, take it up with Mihawk."

"I've already made my position perfectly clear."

"Yeah. You have." 

Lucci stared at him for another moment, then looked toward Sanji, who hadn't moved from Zoro's side. "Enjoy your inheritance, Roronoa."

He walked out, Hattori shifting on his shoulder as he passed through the doorway.

Zoro watched him go. "Charming guy."

Sanji looked considerably less amused. "I wouldn't underestimate him."

"Wasn't planning to." Zoro glanced at Mihawk. "You think he did it?"

"I think there are several matters the police should investigate,” Mihawk said.

"That's a yes, then."

Mihawk regarded him. "It's a reason to be cautious."

Zoro snorted.

The police arrived shortly after one. Two patrol vehicles crossed the bridge once the groundskeeper confirmed that the water had receded sufficiently. An ambulance followed, along with an investigator who'd been contacted about the medication discovered in the laundry room.

Zoro was relieved to see them. Buggy was taken into a separate room for questioning almost immediately, while Mihawk directed the officers investigating the attacks toward Lucci.

The investigator spent considerable time speaking with Mihawk about Rayleigh's death, the prescription bottles, and the attempted break-ins. The medications were documented and collected for laboratory testing, and arrangements were made to review Rayleigh's medical records and the circumstances surrounding his final illness. Buggy asked for his lawyer. Again. Zoro was beginning to think that was the only sensible thing he'd said all weekend.

Lucci refused to answer questions without counsel.

The police also examined the damage to the balcony railing, the broken dressing-room bolt, the steel bar, and the feather found near the doorway. The service key remained missing, but the investigators intended to search for it and review who'd had access to the household keys.

Zoro gave his account of both attacks, including what little he'd seen of the intruder on Sunday night. Sanji gave his own statement.

When the police asked about his experience handling violent situations, Zoro listened with considerable interest.

"Private security," Sanji replied.

The investigator nodded and asked a few more questions before closing his notebook. "That should be everything for now. We'll be in touch if we need anything else."

He stood and left the room, leaving Zoro alone with Sanji and Mihawk.

Zoro turned toward Sanji. "Private security?"

Sanji glanced at him. "Yes."

"Thought you did consulting."

"I do."

"Uh-huh."

Mihawk, who'd been standing nearby, cleared his throat. "Perhaps it's time we clarified the arrangement."

Zoro looked at him. "What arrangement?"

Mihawk regarded him steadily. "I hired Mr. Sanji to provide security for you during your stay at the manor."

Zoro stared at Mihawk, then he looked at Sanji. "You what?"

Sanji looked apologetic. "I was going to tell you."

"When?"

"Once the situation here was resolved."

Zoro looked back at Mihawk. "You hired a bodyguard for me?" 

"Yes."

"Without telling me?"

"Rayleigh anticipated that his relatives would resent you inheriting the estate. He asked me to make certain you were protected during your visit." 

Zoro folded his arms. "So Sanji's been following me around because you hired him?"

"Initially," Mihawk said.

Sanji gave him a look. Mihawk ignored it.

Zoro turned toward the blond. "Initially?"

Sanji rubbed the back of his neck. "The assignment was to make certain you were safe while you were here. We thought it would be easier if I attended as another guest."

"And the flirting?"

Sanji met his gaze. "That had nothing to do with the assignment."

Zoro studied him. "Really?"

"Really."

"Hn." Zoro wasn’t sure what to think now. He'd enjoyed every minute they'd spent together, and he'd been under the impression Sanji felt the same way. Finding out the man had been hired to keep him company put a slightly different perspective on things. "So if Mihawk hadn't hired you, would've you even talked to me?"

Sanji looked surprised. "Of course I would have. I noticed you the moment you walked into the room."

"You were watching for me."

"I was. But I didn't have to find you attractive, Zoro. That happened all on its own."

Zoro regarded him for another moment. Sanji looked distinctly uncomfortable for the first time since they'd met. Zoro found that rather interesting. "So you weren't getting paid to kiss me?"

"Absolutely not."

"Good."

Sanji blinked.

Zoro smiled. "Would've made your job pretty awkward if I sucked at kissing." 

Sanji laughed, visibly relieved. “That’s not a problem you need to worry about.”

Mihawk looked as though he was considering whether to leave them alone.

Zoro turned toward him. "Next time you hire somebody to protect me, tell me."

"Understood."

"Probably would've saved a few misunderstandings."

"Undoubtedly."

Zoro glanced at Sanji. The blond was still smiling. He shook his head. "Security consulting."

"I did tell you the truth about my work."

"Left out a few details."

"A few."

Zoro snorted. He'd have to think about the rest later. He wasn't thrilled that Mihawk had made decisions about his safety without involving him, and Sanji had played along with the deception for three days. It bothered him more than he'd expected. Still, it was difficult to be angry with the man who'd kept him from falling off a balcony and getting his head bashed in. Zoro had enjoyed their time together, and he believed Sanji when he said the attraction was genuine. Whether Sanji would've pursued him without the assignment was another question, although he supposed there was only one way to find out. 

By late afternoon, the estate was beginning to empty. The police had taken Buggy and Lucci away for further questioning. The investigation into Rayleigh's death would continue, and Mihawk explained that any determination about medication tampering would depend on laboratory results and the review of medical evidence.

The attacks on Zoro would require further investigation, although Mihawk appeared confident that the evidence collected from the balcony and dressing room would be useful.

The other beneficiaries were finally making arrangements to leave. Crocodile departed in his luxury sedan after a brief conversation with Mihawk. He paused long enough to remind Zoro that his offer for the estate remained open.

Zoro thanked him and said he'd wait for the appraisal.

Crocodile smiled faintly. "I expected as much."

Caesar disappeared without saying goodbye to Zoro. It suited Zoro perfectly.

Doflamingo left shortly afterward, his ridiculous pink coat shedding feathers across the entrance hall as Mrs. Buckingham watched with visible disapproval. He gave Zoro one last assessing look. "Well, handsome. Quite a weekend."

"Yeah."

"Perhaps we'll meet again."

"Wouldn't count on it."

Doflamingo laughed. "Fufufu. Such a difficult man."

He departed. Zoro hoped he wouldn't see him again. 

Moria was the last of the relatives to leave, following a lengthy argument about several antiques he believed should've been included in his inheritance. Mihawk promised, once again, to review the inventory, which finally persuaded him to go.

Zoro watched Moria struggle through the entrance hall, dragging two enormous suitcases that bulged at the seams. One had apparently been forced shut, with a strip of fabric caught in the zipper. The other had a small marble hand protruding from one corner.

"Need a hand?" Zoro asked.

"I've got it." Moria snapped, hauling the cases toward the door.

Something inside one of them gave a metallic clunk. A moment later, a faint chiming sounded from beneath the lid. Moria hurried outside, the wheels of his luggage rattling over the stone threshold. Zoro watched him wrestle the cases into his car with amusement. Once he sold the estate, he'd have more than enough money without worrying about a few missing antiques. 

By the time the last car drove away, the mansion seemed considerably more peaceful. Zoro stood beneath the front portico, watching the vehicles disappear down the lane. His truck was still parked where he'd left it on Friday, looking less out of place now that the expensive cars had gone. He was looking forward to driving it home.

Sanji joined him. "Quite a difference without everyone here."

"Yeah. Can almost hear myself think."

Sanji laughed.

They stood together for a moment, looking across the courtyard, then Sanji turned toward him. "I suppose I should apologize properly."

"For what?"

"Not telling you why I was here. And for getting involved with you while I was working."

Zoro glanced at him. "Regretting it?"

"Absolutely not." Sanji smiled briefly, then grew serious again. "But you should've known what was going on before things went that far. I knew better, and I let myself get carried away."

Zoro nodded. "Would've preferred knowing."

"I understand."

"Probably would've made a few things less confusing."

"Probably."

Zoro leaned against one of the stone columns. "Look, I get why you kept the job secret. And I'm not complaining about what happened between us."

"Neither am I."

"But you could've told me once things got personal."

Sanji nodded. "You're right. I'm sorry."

Zoro studied him for a moment. Sanji hadn't tried to make excuses, and he looked genuinely bothered by the whole thing. Zoro was still sorting out how he felt about it, but he appreciated that. "Apology accepted."

Sanji smiled. "Thank you."

Zoro looked toward his truck. "So what happens now?"

"Well, you'll have your arm looked at, go home, and hopefully spend a few days avoiding any more accidents."

"Wasn't asking about that."

Sanji glanced at him. "Oh?"

"You're pretty much done with the job, right?"

"More or less. I'll have some paperwork to finish, but Mihawk won't need me here much longer."

"Then I guess you'll have to come up with another excuse to see me."

Sanji smiled. "I was rather hoping I wouldn't need one."

Zoro grinned. "How about dinner next weekend?"

Sanji's smile widened. "I'd very much like that."

"Good," Zoro said. “We’ll go somewhere with good food, no relatives, and no weird drugs in the drinks."

Sanji laughed. "I'll make certain of it."

"And preferably somewhere without a balcony."

Sanji laughed harder.

Zoro grinned. He'd only known Sanji for three days, but he was already looking forward to next weekend. He wanted to see where things went. 

Sanji stepped closer. "May I kiss you?"

Zoro snorted. "You can stop asking every time."

"Noted."

Sanji leaned in and kissed him. Zoro returned it, resting a hand against his waist.

When they parted, Sanji smiled. "I'll call you tomorrow?"

"You’d better."

They exchanged numbers, although Zoro was fairly certain Sanji already had his. He didn't bother asking.

Mihawk found Zoro near his truck a little later. The attorney carried a folder containing copies of the estate documents, along with several forms Zoro would need to review once he got home. "The appraiser will contact you later this week," Mihawk explained. "We'll proceed with the inventory and make arrangements for any remaining personal bequests."

"Okay."

"I'll also keep you informed about the investigation."

"Appreciate it."

Mihawk handed him the folder. "Rayleigh would've been pleased that you accepted the inheritance."

Zoro looked toward the mansion. "Crazy old bastard."

Mihawk smiled faintly. "He could be."

Zoro considered the enormous building, the grounds stretching beyond it, and the money it would eventually bring him. The inheritance would change his life. He'd be able to pay off the dojo, make the repairs he'd been putting off, and put enough aside that he wouldn't have to worry about every unexpected expense.

Rayleigh had known exactly what he was giving him.

"Wish I could've thanked him," Zoro said.

Mihawk regarded him for a moment. "I think you already did."

Zoro looked at him.

The attorney nodded toward the truck. "When you helped him last winter."

Zoro smiled faintly. "Guess so."

He opened the driver's door and placed the folder on the passenger seat.

Mihawk stepped back. "Drive safely, Zoro."

"Planning to."

"And do have that arm examined."

Zoro sighed. "You, too?"

Mihawk's mouth curved. "Consider it professional advice."

Zoro laughed. He climbed into the truck, started the engine, and adjusted the rearview mirror. Thankfully, the old pickup started without complaint. He'd had enough trouble with everything else this weekend.

As he drove down the long estate lane, the mansion disappeared behind the trees. The creek had dropped considerably, although muddy water still rushed beneath the bridge. Zoro slowed to inspect the crossing before driving over it.

On the other side, he glanced in the mirror. Three days ago, he'd arrived expecting nothing more than a legal appointment and perhaps a look around an old man's house. Instead, he'd inherited a fortune, met a collection of lunatics, and nearly gotten himself killed. Twice.

He also had a date with a gorgeous blond who apparently knew how to cook, kiss, and throw a man across a room.

Zoro grinned. 

Maybe the weekend hadn't been so bad after all.

End